



PRESENTED m^ 



PLAIN TALK 

PSALM AND 
PARABLE ^- 



First Edition. 
Demy 8vo, pp. i88. April 1899. 



LONDON : BROTHERHOOD PUBLISHING COMPANY. 



PLAIN TALK 
IN PSALM ^ PARABLE 



BY 

ERNEST CROSBY 




BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD ^ COMPANY 

1899 






p. 

Author. 

(Pcrfon). 

tOF'02 



^ 






Dedication ia# 



TTA/L, Tolstoy^ bold, archaic shape. 
Rude pattern of the man to be, 
From ^neath whose rugged traits escape 
Hints of a manhood fair and free. 

I read a meaning in your face, 

A message wafted from above, 
Prophetic of an egtial race 

Fused into one by robust love. 

Like some quaint statue long concealed, 
Deep buried in Mycena's mart, 

Wherein we clearly see revealed 
The promise of Hellenic art. 

So stand you ; while aloof and proud. 

The world that scribbles, prates, and frets 

Seems but a simpering, futile crowd 
Of Dresden china s tat tie ties. 

Like John the Baptist, once more scan 
The signs that mark the dawn of day. 

Forerunner of the Perfect Man, 

Make straight His path, prepare the way. 

The desert too is your abode, 

Your garb and fare of little worth ; 

Thus ever has the Spirit showed 

The coming reign of heaven on earth. 



Dedication 



Not in kings' houses may we greet 

The prophets whom the world shall bless. 

To lay my verses at your feet 
I seek you in the wilderness. 



Contents 



Fiat Lux 

Friar and the Devil, The 



After the Procession 
All Ye that Labour 
America Libera 
At the Solicitor's . 

Ball-Match, The 

Be Still 

Beware 

Blossoms 

Bonds of Freedom, The 



Choir Practice 

Chorus for the European "Concert" of 1897, A 

Competition . 

Contrasts in Black and White 



Dead Sin, The 
Dear Old England 
Death . 

Debit and Credit 
Dedication 
Divus Augustus 
Do YOU Shrink 
Doubt . 

Education 
Egyptians, The 
Election of 1896, The 
Everlasting Habitations 
Experiment, The 



114 

147 
172 

145 

92 
104 
105 
125 
167 

143 
78 

176 
14 

40 

169 

158 

44 

5 

69 
95 
84 

19 

30 

79 

136 

134 

II 

116 



Contents 



Garrison. William Lloyd 

Go On . 

Good and Evil 

Good Job for the Flag, I 

Great Joy, The 

Great Mystery, The 



Hereafter in Far Distant Years 
High Mass 

Higher Trigonometry, The 
His Message . ■ . 
Hypocrites and Hypocrites 

In the Breakers 

Initiation 

It's None of our Affair 

Kingdom of God, The 

Ladder of Truth, The 

Lex Talionis . 

Life's Tragedy 

Lighthouse, The 

Living Answer, The 

Love 

Love's Blindness 

Magnets 

Man 

Master, The . 

Medice, Cura Te Ipsum 

MORITURI SALUTAMUS 

Mother Nature 

Narrow Path, The 

Nation's Life, The 

New Commandment, The 

New Creation, The 

New Envoys, The 

New Freedom, The 

New York at 99° in the Shade 

8 



140 
57 
134 
156 
127 
96 

157 
177 

139 
29 

43 
160 

lOI 

38 
168 

103 
108 
113 
173 
162 

94 
176 

179 
90 

144 
22 
16 

16S 

80 

17 
III 

133 
49 
58 

151 











Contents 










PAGE 


Not I . 


, 




, , 


. iq6 


Not the Lord 


. 




. 


33 


Now I Understand . 


• 




• 


. 38 


Old, Old Quest, The 








. 131 


On the Rejection of 


THE 


General 


Arbitration 


Treaty of 1897 . 


. 




. 


75 


Orbits . 


. 




. 


94 


Our Charities 


• 




• 


20 


Politics 


. 




. 


. 56 


Postscript 


. 




. 


. 188 


Prison, The . 


. 




. 


. 65 


Prophet, Priest, and King 




. 


., 89 


Prophets 






. 


61 


Psalm for the Poor, A 






• 


34 


Rabboni ut Videamus 








164 


Reformer, The 






. 


. 181 


Regiment, The 






. 


. 109 


Revolt . 






. 


. 64 


Ring Out, Ye Bells . 






• 


123 


Sapphics 






. 


. 137 


Search, The . 






. 


. 137 


Seed, The 






. 


lOI 


Self-Denial . 






. 


104 


Shine like the Sun . 






, 


120 


Shipwreck, The 






. 


46 


Somewhere 






. 


. 15S 


Song of the New Freedom 




. 


. 154 


State, The 


. 




, 


. 1S2 


State-House, The 


• 




• 


. (>! 


Talium est enim Regnum 


Coelorum 


. 129 


To the Russian People 


. 




. 


74 


Truth . 


. 




• . 


13 


Truth Again . 


• 


9 


• 


. 103 



Contents 



Vision of the Pioneers, The 

Waiting 

Walk in the Woods, A 

Way and the End, The 

Wealth of St. Francis, The 

White Soul, The 

Whither and Whence 

Wise and Foolish Seeds, The 

Workers to the Landlords, The 

Ye Pharisees . 



PAGE 

i66 
138 

86 
100 

52 
135 
121 
119 
148 

25 



10 



Fiat Lux ne^ 



WHO are we that we challenge society to its 
face? 
Is society irresistible? So are we in our place 

irresistible ; 
The infinite forces of nature work through us ; 
The narrow past flows on to the broad future 

through us ; 
If we but strive to keep abreast of God's will, God 

acts through us. 
Who then has a higher right than ours to mould the 

world that is to be? 

II 

But we would not lift a finger against your old-time 

contrivances ; 
We lift no finger and we persuade others as well to 

lay aside their weapons. 
We dedicate the sabre and musket to a shelf in the 

museum above the rack and thumbscrew, 
And we know that ere long the ballot-box and 

policeman's club will follow them. 
II 



Fiat Lux 

You could conquer us if we relied on armed bat- 
talions or mere majorities, 

But we know how to fight the owls and bats of 
social superstition ; 

We have no use for guns ; 

He that taketh the sword shall perish by the 
sword ; 

We only turn on the light of truth, and all the 
dismal hosts flee blindly before us ; 

We kindle the fire of love, and all are consumed. 

Ill 
Gone, soon will be gone, the sham honesty which 

lives on others' labour; 
Gone the sham authority which rests upon violence ; 
Gone the sham respectability which is propped up 

by privilege ; 
Gone the sham wealth which is drawn from others' 

poverty ; 
Gone the sham religion which covers the other 

shams with its threadbare cloak of hypocrisy. 
The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; 
Already the nocturnal birds and beasts are slinking 

into the darker corners. 
Soon the Sun of Righteousness will arise with healing 

in His wings : 
Thank God that even through us His rays may be 

dimly refracted ! 

12 



Truth 
Truth '^ 



OUR highest truths are but half-truths. 
Think not to settle down for ever in any truth. 
Make use of it as a tent in which to pass a summer 

night, but build no house of it, or it will be 

your tomb.^ 
When you find the old truth irksome and confining, 
When you first have an inkling of its insufficiency, 

and begin to descry a dim counter-truth 

looming up beyond, 
Then weep not, but give thanks. 
It is the Lord's voice, whispering, " Take up thy 

bed and walk." 

II 

The truth is one with the way and the life ; 

It is the climbing, zigzag road which we must travel ; 

It is the irrepressible growth which we must experi- 
ence. 

Hail the new truth as the old truth raised from the 
dead ; 

Hail it, but forget not that it too will prove to be a 
half-truth ; 

For sooner or later we shall have to dismiss it also 
at another and loftier stage of our journey. 



Contrasts in Black and White 
Contrasts in Black and White la^ 



THIS is a mad world. 
The great church is crowded 

The ancient torn battle-flags are hung high on the 
walls, where the dusty red and yellow rays 
from the stained windows strike them. 

The monuments of generals who died fighting look 
down at the multitude, among whom we see 
here and there uniformed soldiers from the 
garrison. 

And the priest drones : " But I say unto you, Love 
your enemies, do good to them that hate you ; 
and whosoever shall smite thee on thy right 
cheek, turn to him the other also." 

Yet no one smiles — but the devil. 



II 

This IS a mad world. 

In the congregation are great land - owners and 

millionaires, statesmen and magistrates. 
They sit content, and the rest admire them and 

would be as they are. 
And now the organ peals forth, and the choir sings 

gloriously : 

14 



Contrasts in Black and White 

" He hath put down, He hath put down the mighty 
from their seats, and the rich, the rich, He 
hath sent empty away." 

And once more the priest reads : " It is easier for a 
camel to go through the eye of a needle, than 
for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of 
God " ; and again, " Ye know that the princes 
of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, 
and they that are great exercise authority 
upon them, but it shall not be so among you." 

Yet no one smiles — but the devil. 

/ 

This is a mad world. 

The great and learned judge is on the bench. 

The throng is silent as the clerk administers the 

solemn oath to the witnesses. 
The witness swears and kisses the Book ; 
And in the Book is written, " Swear not at all," and 

" Judge not that ye be not judged." 
Yet no one smiles — but the devil. ^' 

IV 
This is a mad world. 

The heroes have met together to proclaim liberty. 
They have just signed the great charter which 
declares that all men are created equal, and 
that they are endowed by their Creator with 
IS 



Morituri Salutamus 

the inalienable right to life, liberty, and the 

pursuit of happiness. 
Many of these men have slaves on their plantations 

at home, and the slave-trade is prospering. 
\^et no one smiles — but the devil. 

V 

This is a mad world. 

For many long years the foreign slave-trade will go 
on, while men shout " freedom." 

For many years longer men will buy and sell their 
fellows, and still shout " freedom." 

And after the word " slave " has been abolished, 
still for many long years will men oppress 
their fellows and rob them of an equal chance 
to live, and still shout " freedom." 

Yet no one smiles — but the devil. 



Morituri Salutamus^ lai^ 

I 

HAIL, Custom, we, about to die, salute thee ! 
Behold us, thy slaves and prisoners, 
Bound and swathed in ponderous frock-coats and 
satin linings, in new-creased trousers, in 

^ The reader will note here and elsewhere the indebtedness of the 
author to Edward Carpenter's admirable Essays. 

i6 



Morituri Salutamus 

starched cambric shirts and silken under- 
clothing ; 

Shackled in stiff collars and wristbands, in gold 
chains and finger-rings ; 

Helpless in patent leather boots, tight-fitting gloves, 
and hard-rimmed top-hats ; 

Decorated, like victims for the sacrifice, with flowers 
in button-hole, and rich scarves and jewelled 
scarf-pins ; 

Forced to talk and to walk, to get up and sit down 
thus and so; 

Made to eat and drink all the unwholesome confec- 
tions and concoctions of East and West ; 

Shut out from the corn-field and market-garden and 
workshop, where men really live; 

Doomed to lifelong impotence by a thousand irre- 
vocable laws ; 

All man's work done for us whether we will or no ; 

Forbidden to clean our own boots or put on our own 
overcoats ; 

Guarded by despotic butlers and valets and house- 
maids ; 

Looking out of our windows, hopelessly bored, at 
the genuine life going by in which we may 
not share ; 

Yawning listlessly in stifling rooms ; 

Weighed down with aimless bric-a-brac and rugs, 
with redundant easy-chairs, picture frames, 

2 17 



Morituri Salutamus 

and upholstery, with all sorts of dust-gather- 
ing rubbish ; 

Our women even more deeply sunk in the glittering 
slough than ourselves ; 

Nerves snapping, digestion spoiled, temper irretriev- 
ably lost, soul unheard from this many a long 
year ! 

II 

Hail, Custom, we, about to die, salute thee ! 

About to die ? Nay, we are dead already ; 

These splendid halls are our sepulchre. 

All here is death, and the life is make-believe ; 

These are but pictures of life traced on the walls for 
the eye-sockets of mummies to stare at in the 
eternal dark. 

We are bound hand and foot, and laid in a gilded 
sarcophagus ; 

We strain at ankle and knee, at wrist and elbow, but 
in vain ; 

We would move our lips, but our tongue cleaves to 
the roof of our mouth. 

Death, death, death ; there is a smell of frankincense 
and spices, but under it all we are rotting 
slowly away. 

Oh for a breath of mountain air, an hour of God- 
given out-door toil ! 

Oh for a voice of command from heaven, crying, 
" Lazarus, come forth ! " 
i8 



Education 



Education ''^ii^ 

HERE are two educated men. 
The one has a smattering of Latin and 
Greek ; 
The other knows the speech and habits of horses 

and cattle, and gives them their food in 

due season. 
The one is acquainted with the roots of nouns and 

verbs ; 
The other can tell you how to plant and dig potatoes 

and carrots and turnips. 
The one drums by the hour on the piano, making 

it a terror to the neighbourhood ; 
The other is an expert at the reaper and binder, 

which fills the world with good cheer. 
The one knows or has forgotten the higher trigo- 
nometry and the differential calculus ; 
The other can calculate the bushels of rye standing 

in his field and the number of barrels to buy 

for the apples on the trees in his orchard. 
The one understands the chemical affinities of 

various poisonous acids and alkalies ; 
The other can make a savoury soup or a delectable 

pudding. 
The one sketches a landscape indifferently ; 

19 



Our Charities 

The other can shingle his roof and build a shed for 
himself in workman-like manner. 

The one has heard of Plato and Aristotle and Kant and 
Comte, but knows precious little about them ; 

The other has never been troubled by such know- 
ledge, but he will learn the first and last 
word of philosophy, " to love," far quicker, I 
warrant you, than his college-bred neighbour. 

For still is it true that God hath hidden these things 
from the wise and prudent and revealed them 
unto babes. 

Such are the two educations : 

Which is the higher and which the lower? 



Our Charities ^^i^ 



YE purveyors of charities ! ye members of society's 
ambulance corps ! 
Are the wounded and disabled too many for you ? 
Is the battle of life taxing your resources beyond 

your strength ? 
Do you cry for more money, more asylums, more 

societies ? 
Stay for a moment, long enough to think, to break 
the truth to yourselves, and then to announce 
it to the world. 

20 



Our Charities 

Be frank, and admit that your task is rapidly out- 
stripping your ability. 
Turn to your rich supporters, and tell them that they 

are creating paupers too fast for their gifts 

to catch up with them ; 
That annual subscriptions and soup-tickets and 

Sunday church - going are of no use except 

to quiet consciences which ought to be 

goaded ; / 
That all their Societies for the Prevention of Charity 

— of real personal charity — are deferring the 

coming of the kingdom of God ; 
That the only way to stop poverty is to stop 

manufacturing it by privilege and covetous- 

ness; 
That the only way to relieve the ambulance corps is 

to order a halt in the battle. 

II 

Ye purveyors of alms ! 

Acknowledge once for all the bankruptcy of Organ- 
ised Charity. 

You know that you are insolvent ; that you cannot 
meet the demands made upon you ; 

That many an honest unemployed man asks you for 
work in vain, and that his just claim goes to 
protest. 

At least you can do one thing with him: 

21 



Medice, Cura Te Ipsum 

Make him a living epistle, read of all men ; 

Bring his existence home to your distant and deaf 

subscribers ; 
Do not bury him in annual reports and abstract 

statistics ; 
Give room in your hearts to the indignation that you 

ought to feel, 
And give vent to it boldly in the face of those vi^ho 

pay your stipends. 
You cannot do better than quote Isaiah to them : 
" Thus saith the Lord, 

Away with your new moons and sabbaths and call- 
ing of assemblies. 
The spoil of the poor is in your houses. 
What mean ye that ye beat My people to pieces and 

grind the faces of the poor? saith the Lord 

God of Hosts." 



Medice, Cura Te Ipsum la^ 



PITY our dilettante literary men and artists, 
Cut off from their base of supplies, the 
common people. 
Starving, as it were, in a foreign land ; 
Uttering trim futilities for each other's edification, 
Their prophetic function all forgotten. 

22 



Medice, Cura Te Ipsum 

Such were not the men of old — 

Sophocles and Euripides, when all Athens watched 

from sunrise to sunset the destiny of CEdipus 

or Orestes ; 
And Cimabue, when the populace of Florence bore 

his Madonna of the dawn in triumph from his 

studio to the altar. 
Such were not the great musical composers of 

our own time, for they too spake for the 

masses ; 
And to-day, where German workmen meet together, 

you may hear sung the noblest chorals, 
And the forlornest Italian village can appreciate 

Verdi and Mascagni. 
The artist must embrace his lowliest fellow-man ; in 

vain will he seek for inspiration elsewhere. 
The bard and the painter should be the head and 

right arm of the people ; 
What can we expect from Art when we lop these 

from the trunk ? 

II 

Pity our drawing-room reformers. 

Isolated as they too are from the nation's life — 

Physicians trying to cure the body politic of bribery 

and corruption. 
But not probing deep enough to know that the root 

of both is the haste to get rich ; 
23 



Medice, Cura Te Ipsum 

Tainted themselves unconsciously by the same 

contagion, 
Blind to their own symptoms — speculation, mono- 
poly, and caste ; 
Ignorant that the real foe is not Tammany but 

Mammony. 
There are the good women, too, who long to vitalise 

our common schools, 
And yet overlook the obvious first step — to send 

their own children to them. 
And all those innumerable " mote " societies, bent on 

making other people behave themselves, 
But failing to see that one honest association for the 

eradication of beams could outstrip them all 

in usefulness. 
Physician, heal thyself. 
Reformers, feel the vulgar blood of humanity flow 

in your veins ; it is there, if you but 

knew it. 
Make yourselves one with the people, and they will 

be whole. 
You can only draw health and strength from the 

heart of the nation ; 
What are we to expect of your reforms if you 

respond not to its pulse-beat ? 



24 



Ye Pharisees 



Ye Pharisees '^flk 

YE Pharisees that rule the land 
In politics and trade ; 
Ye money kings, whose least command 
The world has long obeyed ; 

Ye portly millionaires, who choose 

To live in pious style. 
Whose bald heads punctuate the pews 

Far up the middle aisle ; 

Ye that suck ground-rents from the soil, 

Ye usurers of the banks. 
Who love to live on others' toil, 

And to the Lord give thanks ; 

Ye corporation lords, who mock 
The forms the law allows. 

And know the way to water stock 
With sweat of others' brows ; 

Ye priests, that utter lies serene 

To lull the like of these, 
And make the words of Jesus mean 

What you and Mammon please, 
25 



Ye Pharisees 



Go to the Sacred Book, and see 
The words to you addressed ; 

To you He saith not, " Come to Me, 
And I will give you rest." 

But rather, " Woe to you, O rich ' 
Ye blind that lead the blind 

Until ye stumble in the ditch 
Where perish human kind. 

" Ye hypocrites, that cannot read 
The signals of the times ; 
Who know not that the age of greed 
Is doomed, with all its crimes. 

" Go, tithe your mint and rue again, 
And keep your Sabbath day ; 
But justice, love of fellow-men, 
And mercy, where are they? 

" The orphan's and the widow's share 
Ye hasten to devour. 
What if ye bow your heads in prayer 
And mumble by the hour. 

" Ye do your alms that all may look 
And note the action fine ; 
High on the year's subscription book 
Your names are sure to shine. 
26 



Ye Pharisees 

" And when men meet for this and that, 
Ye love the upper seat ; 
For you, to see them lift their hat 
And stare at you is sweet. 

" Ye lawyers of the senate hall, 
And ye of bench and bar, 
The burthens of your statutes fall 
Where'er the poorest are. 

" Not with one finger will ye aid 
To ease your neighbour's task ; 
If rent and interest be paid, 
This, this is all ye ask. 

" The key of knowledge, lo, ye hide, 
Nor let your fellows know 
That love alone can turn the tide 
Which buries them in woe. 

" Behold the monuments ye build 
To them your fathers stoned ! 
And so the seers ye would have killed 
Ere long will be enthroned. 

" Fit sons of those who used to trade 
In flesh of ebon hue. 
Ye think that white and black were made 
To moil and toil for you. 
27 



Ye Pharisees 



" And them that would their country rid 
Of every kind of slave, 
Ye treat them as your fathers did, 
And slander those who save. 

" Ye whited sepulchres, that loom 
So stately to the eye, 
Down in the bottom of the tomb 
All filth and foulness lie. 

" And think ye then that such as ye 
God's reign on earth may view? 
The tramp and prostitute will be 
More welcome there than you." 

So speaks your Testament. Take heed. 

Ye that have ears to hear ; 
Accept this lesson as you read — 

Repent. God's reign is near. 

And now, while still your choice is free, 

Against your god rebel — 
Your god, respectability, 

The dullest fiend in hell. 



22> 



His Message 
His Message 



I 

HE came with good tidings, it is true, 
But they were good tidings only to the poor. 
For us, who are content to be rich while our 

brethren suffer want, 
There was not one word of cheer in all His message. 

II 

" Come unto Me, and I will give you rest," was His cry, 
But He addressed it only to them that " labour and 

are heavy laden." 
To us, who have never done for a single day our 

share of the work of the world, 
There comes no such invitation. 

Ill 

But He had words for us also ; 

We too must hear Him speak, but from another 
standpoint. 

Let us take our proper place in the group of scorn- 
ful, self-satisfied scribes and Pharisees who 
stand aloof over against Him. 

From that post let us listen to His burning eloquence, 

And find a new and truer life and power in His 
language. 

29 



The Egyptians 

We can claim no more than this ; 

Neither may we take to ourselves His expressions 
of sympathy and love, 

Nor recline with our head upon His bosom, 

Until with Him we make ourselves equal with the 
least, 

And accept gladly the common suffering, the priva- 
tion, and the toil. 



The Egyptians 



WHAT does Moses think of the Egyptian folk 
as he treads the streets of Memphis and 
walks out into the great necropolis ? 
" O most religious of people, anxious for nought but 
the preparation of your bodies for the resur- 
rection. 
Building tombs that will astound the ages, 
Pyramids that rival the everlasting hills. 
Content to paint your marvellous pictures on the 
sepulchres' inner walls for the pleasure of the 
dead, 
A whole class devoted to embalming of bodies, 
pouring in the costliest spices, binding up 
30 



The Egyptians 

with the choicest linen, laying them in magni- 
ficently decorated and inlaid sarcophagi, 

Burying with them gold and silver and gems, and 
the most beautiful glass and pottery, 

Preserving the body that you may preserve the soul. 

The whole people crying out as one man, * What 
must I do to be saved ? ' 

The energies which other races turn towards the 
present absorbed by you in the all-engrossing 
life to be." 

II 

" And this religion of yours, how does it touch your 

hearts ? 
The workmen on your monuments and temples die 

like flies in the summer sun, and who cares? 
You set taskmasters over them to afflict them with 

burdens, and make them serve with rigour; 
You make their lives bitter with hard bondage, in 

mortar and in brick and in all manner of 

service in the field, forcing them to make 

their bricks without straw. 
Your gaze is so fixed on heaven that you cannot see 

the earth ; 
You are so bent on future happiness that you have 

no eyes for the misery you create about you ; 
Your faith is a mockery and your heaven will be a 

hell." 

31 



The Egyptians 

III 

And when the Spirit of the Lord came upon Moses, 
that he gave the law to the people, 

How he revolted from the narrow Egyptian creed ! 

How he directed their minds away from selfish care 
for salvation in the world to come, and turned 
them towards their duties oi to-day. 

" Hear, O Israel, The Lord our God is one Lord, 

And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all 
thine heart, and with all thy strength, and 
with all thy soul, and with all thy might. 

He doth execute the judgment of the fatherless 
and widow, and loveth the stranger, in giving 
him food and raiment ; love ye therefore the 
stranger, for ye were strangers in the land of 
Egypt. 

And thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" 

And though he was learned in all the learning of the 
Egyptians, yet not one word does he utter in 
all his five long books regarding the world to 
come, 

Lest the children of Israel should be enslaved by it 
as were the people of the Nile. 

And it was from this seed of Moses that sprang the 
flower of Galilee in due time, 

To make earth a garden and begin the kingdom of 
heaven here. 



32 



y 



Not the Lord 
Not the Lord 



I 

PRAISE ye the Lord, 
For He hath given to His poor a world 

stored with all riches : 
Stone in the mountain, brick in the field, timber in 

the forest to build them their houses; 
Wool and cotton to make them clothing ; 
Corn and fruit and every manner of plant for their 

food. 
Who hath shut them out from the fullest enjoyment 

of all these things which they themselves 

produce ? 
It is not God. Praise ye the Lord. 

II 

Praise ye the Lord, 

For He hath given to His poor brains, and eyes and 
ears of the best. 

So that they might know the beauty of the land- 
scape. 

So that they might acknowledge the sway of the old 
masters of art, 

And feel the thrill of the noblest music, 

And take to their bosom the greatest poets, 

And love their books as themselves. 
3 33 



A Psalm for the Poor 

Who hath shut them out from all this fruition ? 
It is not God. Praise ye the Lord. 



Ill 

Praise ye the Lord, 

For He hath given to His poor hearts to love their 

fellows, 
So that they might have the key to the kingdom of 

heaven. 
Who is it that taketh away the key and shutteth up 

the kingdom against them ? 
That neither goeth in himself nor suffereth them 

that are entering to go in ? 
It is not God. Praise ye the Lord, v-' 



A Psalm for the Poor 



THEY speak of brotherhood ; 
They say that we are all brethren ; 
That we have one Father in heaven, who is no 
respecter of persons and before whom we are 
all equal ; 
But their life is a lie. 

O Lord, how long ? 
34 



A Psalm for the Poor 
II 

They discourse of love ; 

They tell us how their hearts go out to us ; 

They point to their great charities, and who can 

deny the proofs of brick and mortar and hard 

red gold ? 
But their love is hate. 

O Lord, how long? 



Ill 

Their talk is of prayer ; 

They rejoice in dim light and low music and the 

subtle beauties of the Prayer- Book ; 
Tears come to their eyes and gentle tremors thrill 

their nerves ; 
But their prayer is a dream. 
O Lord, how long ? 



IV 

They bow down to the Christ; 
He is their dearly loved Lord and Master ; 
They listen to His gospel and make it their 
task to see that it shall be preached to all 
nations ; 
But He knows them not. 

O Lord, how long ? 
35 



A Psalm for the Poor 

V 

It was for us, His gospel ; 

He named it, " Good tidings to the poor " ; 

He gave it to us, their brothers, who cannot enter 

their homes, or else must eat at another table 

and steal up back-stairs to the garret. 
He never spoke to us of the stations to which we 

are called ; 
Hecalled all men to one station — not to be ministered 

unto, but to minister ; 
But their eyes, as they read, are holden. 
O Lord, how long? 

VI 

When they despise us they despise themselves, for 
are we not one ? 

When they separate themselves from us and measure 
their height from our baseness, do they not 
degrade themselves in us, and are they not 
traitors to our common humanity ? 

A house divided against itself cannot stand. 

Their high rank is high treason. 
O Lord, how long ? 

VII 

But lo, the Son of Man cometh ! 

Their best self bends down to each of them ; 

36 



A Psalm for the Poor 

The age-spirit of love breathes within them ; 

The Hght of truth flashes forth once more as the 

Hghtning that cometh out of the east and 

shineth even unto the west ; 
Will it be rejected too of this generation ? 
O Lord, how long? 

VIII 

O ye that begin to see and hear, 
Love now, live now. 

The hour is coming and now is 

When the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of 
God, and they that hear shall live. 

Away with the barriers, then ; clasp your brethren 
to your bosoms ; 

Let there be no hesitation, no compromise, no reser- 
vations, no misgivings. 

Let him which is on the housetop not come down 
to take anything out of his house, 

Neither let him which is in the field return back to 
take his clothes. 

Have ye not talked long enough ? 

Will ye never live? 

O Lord, how long? 



37 



Now I understand 



/ 



Now I understand '^if 

I TAKE my place in the lower classes. 
I renounce the title of gentleman because it 
has become intolerable to me. 
Dear Master, I understand now why you too took 

your place in the lower classes, 
And why you refused to be a gentleman. 



It's none of our Affair ^ 

WE'VE loosed ourselves from Calvin's chain 
No bigots blind are we ; 
The freedom of our heart and brain 
Is beautiful to see. 

No more are infants doomed, we trust, 

To burn in hottest hell ; 
For such a fate would be unjust, 

As anyone might tell. 

Of course they are condemned on earth 

To pine in wretched slums. 
But then, they'll have no end of mirth 

When heaven's kingdom comes. 

38 



It's none of our Affair 

And If meanwhile they die like flies 

From lack of food and air, 
As you may readily surmise, 

It's none of our affair. 

The dogma of election, too, 

Is more absurd than this ; 
God for no arbitrary few 

Reserves eternal bliss. 

Of course, a few of us on earth 

Inherit all the plums. 
But we shall lose our rights of birth 

When heaven's kingdom comes. 

And if meanwhile it is our fate 

To feast on choicest fare, 
While men lie begging at our gate, 

It's none of our affair. 

Again, we hardly are content. 

That for the things we've done 
Our Judge should wreak His punishment 

Upon a guiltless one. 

Of course our toilers bear on earth 
Their cross, till each succumbs ; 

Tis time enough to crown their worth 
When heaven's kingdom comes. 
39 



The Dead Sin 

And if meanwhile luxurious ease, 
And vice and want of care, 

Make us exploit the lives of these, 
It's none of our affair. 

And so, you see, in heaven above, 
Where we have never been, 

We've stablished justice, peace, and love, 
And put an end to sin. 

And all religious bigotry 

We've swept from heart and mind. 
Of course from cant we're also free, 

Of economic kind. 

For if meanwhile a hell on earth 

Is spreading everywhere, 
And plenty roots itself in dearth, 

It's none of our affair. 



The Dead Sin 



I 



I 
SEE the Master eating with publicans and sinners, 
refusing to condemn the adulteress, opening 
paradise to the thief; 
40 



The Dead Sin 

Showing His love in His eyes as He speaks long- 
ingly to the young man, notwithstanding the 
youth's enslavement to riches, his refusal of 
freedom ; 

Himself numbered among the transgressors, whose 
friendship He sought ; 

And yet indignant, with words which still reverberate 
down the centuries, against hypocrites and 
against them only. 

Singling out one sin from all sins for utter reproba- 
tion. 

II 

Hypocrisy, thou art indeed a sin apart, a sin of 
death amid sins of life, a dead disease amid 
living diseases, 

A stiffening of joints, a hardening of tissues, ossify- 
ing man into a lifeless form, binding him to 
the dead forms of the past, shutting him out 
for ever from the life that is to be ; 

While ye, ye sins of passion and ambition, are at 
least alive ; 

Though your life be that of the disease-germ and 
tumour, it is still life ; 

Its teeming energy may be reclaimed ; it may be 
turned into new channels ; 

And who can foresee the fruitage it may yet bring 
forth ? 

41 



The Dead Sin 

Inertia, death, these alone are surely fatal to life. 
He who came that men might have life and have 

it more abundantly — 
What truce could there be between Him and death ? 



Ill 

Ye other sins, like covetousness, ye are idolatry, 
But have ye not at least your idols set up before 

you ? do ye not at least worship something ? 
Your face is turned to the future ; you climb the 

steps of some temple, though it be the wrong 

temple ; 
Ye have a motive, and really act and live; for you 

there is still hope. 
But hypocrisy is a mere simulacrum ; it has the 

name to live and is dead : 
It has no God, no idol, no ideal ; 
Its stony stare is riveted on the past ; 
It cannot grow and develop ; it is doomed to eternal 

arrest and stagnation ; 
It is the sin of death, and for it is the woe of 

despair. 
He who came that men might have life and have it 

more abundantly — 
What truce could there be between Him and death ? 



42 



Hypocrites and Hypocrites 



Hypocrites and Hypocrites 



ARE we not a little too free with this tempting 
word, " hypocrite " ? 
We Single Taxers, who denounce landlords, and yet 

pocket gladly the unearned ground-rent our- 
selves ; 
We socialist lecturers, who say, " Competition is of 

the devil, but so long as you permit it we 

shall continue to profit by it " ; 
We anarchists, who go on judging and condemning, 

and suing and being sued ; 
We, all of us, who wait for society to make the first 

step, and are not perhaps after all in such 

great haste that it should take us at our 

word ? 
How do we differ from the abolitionist slave-holder, 

or the drunken temperance preacher, or any 

other moral monster? 
Who are we, to throw stones at our brother hypocrites 

of respectability ? 
Nay, we cannot shoulder our sins upon society ; 
Rather should we take upon ourselves the sins of 

others. 
Make for them and for us the supreme effort to do 

right as well as to talk right ; » 
43 



Debit and Credit 

I And if we fail, at least fall fighting, struggling to 

undo the bonds that bind us all./ 
Folly, perhaps, but the folly that we must learn from 

all the prophets, heroes, saints, and martyrs 

of old ; 
And if we learn it not, who are we to cast stones at 

our brother hypocrites of respectability ? 



Debit and Credit 



HALF the world is labouring to-day for you : 
The Chinese coolie is hard at work pluck- 
ing tea - leaves or wading in the rice - fields 
for you ; 

The Southern negro, the fellah of the Nile are sow- 
ing cotton under a blazing sun for you ; 

Factory men and women, and young girls and little 
children, at home and abroad, are leading 
cheerless, steam-driven lives for you ; 

Farm labourers on the prairie are toiling with 
sweating brows from sunrise to sunset for 
you; 

You have slaves in every clime to-day, suffering 
every degree of weariness and degradation — 
and all for you. 

What are you doing for them ? 

44 



Debit and Credit 
II 

Believe me, you cannot discharge this great obliga- 
tion with money ; 
The recording angel, who keeps the book of life, 

knows no money except that which you have 

rightfully earned, and which is therefore your 

labour. 
With other money you can only shift your duties 

upon the shoulders of others ; 
And these others already have their own duties, 

which they must neglect if they assume 

yours. 
You must acquit yourself with your labour, and with 

your labour alone. 
How, then, do your books stand ? 
Is the balance hopelessly against you ? 
If so, acknowledge your bankruptcy; tell yourself 

no lies ; begin life again. 
Henceforth insist on giving more than you get, and 

on serving rather than being served ; 
Even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered 

unto but to minister. 



45 



The Shipwreck 
The Shipwreck 



THE coast of a desert island in the Southern 
Sea; 
The cocoa-nut palms crowd down to the very beach, 

where the waves still break angrily after the 

tempest ; 
But overhead the sun is sinking in a clear sky, and 

the pure, still air is laden with spices. 
A company of shipwrecked men are busily engaged 

at the edge of the grove : 
Some are gathering cocoa-nuts ; some are cutting 

them in two to make cups and to get at the 

rich kernel ; 
Others are bringing wood and kindling a fire to dry 

their clothes and cook their supper; 
Still others are building rude shelters and wind- 
brakes of boughs, and heaping up beds of 

leaves. 

II 

It is a strange, unnatural sight to our civilised eyes, 

for not one is idle. 
First cabin and steerage have been forgotten for 

once. 

46 



The Shipwreck 

The man of wealth elbows the poor emigrant and 
the deck-hand, and his hands are as grimy as 
theirs. 

His purse is in his pocket, but he does not take it 
out and cry, " Here is gold ; labour for me." 

Such a thought never occurs to him, and if it did 
he knows that they would scoff at his yellow 
toys. 

The clergyman is hard at work. He does not say, 
" Cook my dinner and let me sit still ; I will 
preach to you on Sunday." 

The judge and the lawyer are sweating like day- 
labourers ; neither of them says, " We will 
decide your disputes when you fall to quarrel- 
ling, and will punish you when we are of 
opinion that you have committed crimes; 
meanwhile, build the best huts and make the 
best beds for us, even if you, who do the 
work, have to sleep on the bare ground and 
under the open heavens." 

They have been saying these things all their lives. 
How is it that they have suddenly ceased to 
say them ? 

Ah, the storm has cleared the air ! 

It has swept the dark clouds of economics and lies 
far below the horizon. 

For the first time our travellers are face to face with 
nature, and behold at last their natural duties ; 
47 



The Shipwreck 

They have unconsciously made the discovery that 

they are men, and neither more nor less than 

men ; 
Here they must be as simple and direct and true as 

the palm trees over their heads or the pebbles 

beneath their feet. 

Ill 

Alas, it may be for only a few weeks at most ! 

Even if they remain here, ere long the old serpent 
with his three heads — rent, interest, and profit 
— will tempt them again to eat the forbidden 
fruit oi others' labour. 

Would there not soon be another fall, another dis- 
graceful eviction from paradise, the angel 
sentinel again on guard at the entrance to 
their better natures ? 

IV 

My brothers, we too are cast up together for a time 
by the sea of eternity on this remote, mys- 
terious island-globe of ours. 

What privilege can any one of us claim ? 

Shall we not do our share of the rough-and-tumble 
work? 

Can we without shame lie dreaming or chatting or 
scribbling under the palms while the rest are 
toiling ? 

48 



The New Envoys 

And if we have seized for ourselves the monopoly of 

thinking, 
Should we not at least think straight and see 

straight ? 
Verily, we of all others should have thought out the 

truth of the old law of nature, " He that will 

not work, neither shall he eat." 



The New Envoys isb 



SEE the chasm between rich and poor ever 
widening, 
The newly invented millionaire and tramp marking 

the greatest stretch; 
More charities, but less fellow-feeling ; more patron- 
age, but less sympathy. 
If disdain hardly cares to hide itself on one side, can 

we wonder if we detect hate and envy on the 

other ? 
And yet even envy and hatred may be in part 

purified by a sense of injustice, of righteous 

indignation, of a common cause. 
What God hath joined, man is putting asunder. 
We are cutting an ugly gash in the flesh of 

humanity, and are slowly waking to the 

naked shame. 
4 49 



The New Envoys 

II 

But how bravely and tenderly nature seeks to heal 

the ghastliest wound, 
Tissue striving to knit itself to tissue, 
Muscle, sinew, flesh doing their best to bridge the 

abyss. 
Groping outward tentatively, longing to meet a like 

growth from the other side, and once more to 

help mould all together in the old union. 
And so with us, behold the first envoys of recon- 
ciliation. 
Young men and women leaving ease and comfort 

and idleness to live in the slums of our great 

cities ; 
Sacrificing self, because they cannot do otherwise ; 
Yet living gladly, finding new, undreamt-of joys in 

life. 
See in far Russia one nobleman after another donning 

the peasant's sheepskin, working in the fields, 

going to the people ; 
And so in Prussia, the rich land-owner marrying a 

peasant woman, sending his children to the 

village school, delighting in a new - found 

sense of brotherhood ; 
In Belgium, the young baron insisting on sitting in 

the patrician senate in a labourer's blouse, 

proud only of his manhood ; 
50 



The New Envoys 

In England, the university don throwing up his 
fellowship, choosing to share a workman's 
cottage, tilling a market - garden, preaching 
simplicity and fraternity, writing books that 
will live. 

Ill 

" Fools," says the world, " harbouring a false senti- 
ment, and then overdoing it ; 

Degenerates, mattoids, cranks, at least unbalanced ! " 

Nay, rather strong types and symbols of the fellow- 
ship to be ; 
^^ Taking upon themselves the sins of their age ; 

Leaping into the chasm that it may close behind them. 

Overdoing perhaps, but what a glorious overdoing it 
is ! how necessary as a graphic protest against 
the wrongs that be, how well designed to 
arrest the mind of the drowsy world and 
shake it from its mediaeval dreams, v 

I love them all, with their sheepskins and blouses, 
and peasant wives and children — 

Love them as the heralds of the coming time, as the 
vigorous, homely, accentuated words of destiny. 

Such were the prophets of old. 

Preaching the word of the Lord in their deeds. 

Fitting the symbol to the lesson as they walked the 
streets. 

Living epistles, read of all men. 

51 



The Wealth of St. Francis 

Nay, such was the Master Himself, who for our sakes 
became poor, that we through His poverty 
might become rich. 



The Wealth of St. Francis 



IT is noontide on the public square of Assisi ; 
The black shadows are at their shortest on 

the glaring white pavement. 
A crowd comes up the street. 
Bernardone, the rich father of Francis, seeks the 

Bishop, to complain of his son, who is wasting 

all his substance in almsgiving. 
Francis, a mere lad, follows with them, and the 

children are throwing stones at him, while 

their parents point him out with derision. 
The Bishop descends the steps of his palace with 

his attendants. 
The youth hastens to meet him, and suddenly strips 

off his fine raiment and casts it at his father's 

feet. 
The old man strives to strike him, but his friends 

hold him back. 
His son sees him not, however; he is looking all 

absorbed toward the sky. 
52 



The Wealth of St. Francis 

•^ " Henceforth," he cries, " I have only a Father in 
heaven ; I renounce all earthly possessions ; 
I confide my treasure to Him, and He will 
provide." y 

The kindly Bishop, with tears in his eyes, covers the 
naked youth with his mantle, and his followers 
receive him among themselves. 

Many in the crowd gaze scornfully at the young 
saint, as if he were a lunatic ; others show pity 
in their faces ; a few seem to be impressed 
by his faith, but not one is prophet enough to 
understand the effect of that strange scene 
upon the history of the world. 

II 

Years have passed. 

The friars of St. Francis have preached to the 
common people a new religion — the religion 
of conscious love to God and of fellowship 
to man, of self-respect and freedom for the 
individual, and of contempt for riches. 

They radiate a wonderful force, which they derive 
from their founder. 

He took all that lived and moved to his bosom, and 
thence drew his strength. 

The birds and flowers, the wolf and the ass, the 
sun and moon, were his brothers and 
sisters. 

53 



The Wealth of St. Francis 

He brought Christ down from heaven, and God with 

Him. 
Jesus walked the earth again ; His disciples again 

hung on His arm ; once more they watched 

His loving, mysterious face. 
Human love was no longer impious, but became a 

reflection of the Divine love. 
Francis taught his little brothers, and they taught 

the masses to feel, in part at least, as he 

himself did. 
He aroused a new enthusiasm for mankind, and a 

new sympathy for earth and sea and sky. 
This is the seed which he and his band scattered, 

and the harvest springs up in glorious Christian 

art. 

Ill 

A great church grows at Assisi over the beloved 

body of the saint, and from it shoots forth 

the new Gothic architecture of Italy. 
On its walls Giotto revels in the life of his hero, and 

his frescoes mark a new day in the history of 

man. 
The inspiration of Francis calls to life a natural and 

dramatic art beneath the artist's hands. 
Giotto becomes, too, the greatest architect of all time, 

and builds the Campanile at Florence out of 

his heavenly dreams. 
54 



The Wealth of St. Francis 

Moved by the same spirit, Niccolo Pisano and his 

successors revive the ancient art of sculpture 

and make the marble warm with life. 
The impulse is given which in due time will lead to 

Raphael, and Titian, and Michael Angelo, and 

the rest. 
Francis, too, begins to sing hymns in the language 

of the people. 
He is himself a poet, and among his disciples also 

are poets ; 
They produce the " Dies Irae," and the " Stabat 

Mater," and many a popular song in the 

vulgar tongue ; 
Until at last the stream of poetry widens into the 

boundless sea of Dante. 
And so of Francis of Assisi is born the poetry, the 

sculpture, the painting, the architecture of 

Christendom. 
He may indeed claim as his offspring the new-born 

marvel of Christian art. 
What miracle is this ? 
The man who flung all possessions from him endows 

mankind with its noblest wealth ; 
/He who threw away gold and silver in exchange for 

truth and love proves after all to be the wisest 

economist ; 
His folly outstrips all the wisdom of the world 1 - 



55 



Politics 

Politics iai# 

I 

THE great, living, growing, changing world of 
public opinion, — 
How it overshadows the little political world of 

manufactured law ! 
In the former we are all legislators by our birthright ; 
We owe to it the frankest, most honest expression of 

our views ; 
For its sake we must for ever insist on the fullest 

freedom of speech for ourselves and others. 
All the mighty men of all time have been leaders 

in this parliament ; 
We rejoice in maintaining its high traditions. 

II 

For a maker of public opinion, an hereditary man, 
what attraction can politics have? 

Its dream of influence is an illusion, 

For they leave their real selves behind who enter 
there ; 

Their new influence is that of their false selves. 

They no longer dare to say what they believe ; 

They must strive to think what they think that 
others think that they ought to think ; 

56 



Go on 

They must resign their seat in the parliament of the 

world ; 
To rule, they must deliver themselves up, bound hand 

and foot, to others ; 
To extend their sway they must become slaves. 
/ The political world is a government by slaves in 

quest of slaves. 
If we enter it, we sell our birthright for a mess of 

pottage./ 



/Qo 



on 1^ 



Go on with your voting and organising, 
Your judging and condemning and punish- 
ing, 

Your recruiting and drilling and building of war- 
ships. 

You say it is your duty. 

I think that perhaps it is. 

All I know is that it is not mine, and that some 
day it will cease to be yours. 

The time will come when you will have grown 
beyond all that, 

When you will see the absurdity of it all, 

When you will lay aside childish things. 

Go on then ; play with your bats and balls and tops 
and pocket-knives ; 
57 



The New Freedom 

Bump your heads ; stub your toes ; cut your fingers 

and let them bleed ; learn from your only 

schoolmistress — Pain. 
You cannot share our experiences ; you must each 

have your own. 
When you have at last finished your term, and left 

the narrow school and playground, 
We will give you a rousing welcome in the real 

world outside. 
Where men live one degree nearer the cause of things, 
And where the air is clearer and the sunlight 

brighter. / 



The New Freedom 



AMERICANS, you once were free, — 
Free as the broad prairie and the forest 

profound, — 
And then, after your Revolution, you led the world. 
Your example fired France, and France set Europe 

aflame. 
Without battalions or men of war you were in the 

van of the nations. 
A mere handful, living in straggling hamlets along 

a thousand miles of narrow seaboard ; 

58 



The New Freedom 

Without arms, you were invincible ; 
Without a fortress, you were invulnerable. 
Your strength was your freedom. 

II 

Times change, and freedom changes with them, 

For freedom must from age to age be born again. 

The political liberty of Seventy-six, the equality 
before the law, of which you talk so much, 
is no longer the living ideal that it was ; 

It is now a fossil for antiquaries to toy with. 

Will you play with it in the rear while the nations 
go marching on ? 

Ill 

Think you to lead again by dint of armies and 

navies and coast defences? 
Not so is the world mastered. 
Spread your frontiers, take Cuba and Hawaii, beguile 

Canada if you can, push on over the great 

Southern Hemisphere ; 
Will these lands be yours ? 
There is only one possession in them worth the 

capturing, and that is the hearts of men ; 
And these hearts can never be won by a nation of 

slaves. 
Be free, and all mankind will flock to your standard. 

59 



The New Freedom 

IV 

While you talk of freedom, do you not feel the 

fetters that are fastening on your limbs ? 
While you hurrah, are you unconscious of the burden 

which you are bearing ? 
Are you never weary of the endless task ? 
Can you still be cheered by the devilish dream of 

becoming taskmasters in your turn ? 
Up, and to death with the tyrant ! 
Let there be no half measures ; he must be torn from 

his insolent throne. 
Show him no quarter ; plunge the dagger in deep 

and again and again ; let him welter in his 

blood. 



There, at last you are rising. Where is the 

oppressor, do you cry ? 
You will not find him in the streets. 
Look for him in your own souls, for the kingdom of 

hell is within you. 
There reigns the greed for gold ; 
There it is that you are either trampling on your 

fellow-men or longing to be numbered with 

the tramplers ; 
There it is that your rebellion, your revolution must 

begin. 

60 



Prophets 

Set yourselves free. Away with the usurper; enthrone 
in his stead the new ideal, the equal freedom 
in love of all mankind, liberty and union, one 
and inseparable. 

Ah yes ; seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all 
things shall be added unto you. 



J Prophets la^ 



HAPPY the land that knoweth its prophets 
before they die ! 
Happy the land that doth not revile and persecute 

them during their lives ! 
Was there ever such a land ? 
We are still engaged in the ancient pastime — 
Building the monuments of the prophets of old, 
And casting stones at the seers whom we meet in 

the streets. 
In the world's market one dead prophet is worth a 

dozen of the living. 
Happy the land that knoweth its prophets before 

they die ! 

II 
We, Pharisees of the Jerusalem of Herod, 
We do reverence indeed to the words of Isaiah and 
Amos. 

6i 



Prophets 

Did they pitch into rulers and landlords rather 

roughly ? 
Why, in those distant times, landlords and rulers 

richly deserved it. 
If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would 

not have been partakers with them in the 

blood of the prophets. 
But what shall we do with this man, Jesus, who talks 

in much the same strain ? 
Oh, away with Him ! Crucify Him ! crucify Him ! 
Happy the land that knoweth its prophets before 

they die ! 

Ill 

And still we rehearse the same dismal comedy, even 

in America, and in this Nineteenth Century. 
How did we hail John Brown, and Thoreau, and 

Whitman ? 
Behold Garrison ! The astounding, intrepid youth 

advances single-handed with his sling against 

the ogre of slavery. 
One day he is mobbed and almost massacred on the 

streets of Boston, under the shadow of the 

statues of Franklin and Washington, because 

he preaches freedom. 
Now at last his monument too stands, honoured by 

all, at the heart of the Puritan city. 
How fare the living prophets in Boston to-day ? 

62 



Prophets 

Happy the land that knoweth its prophets before 
they die ! 

IV 

And there are prophets to-day, though the world 

passes them by unheeding. 
Their race is not extinct, and will not be until we 

settle down to death. 
To them is confided the life of the world. 
On the bold, startling lines they lay down, the 

living structure of the future will grow ; 
The nerve-like shapes which they trace in the 

amorphous and distorted mass of society will 

by and by be centres of visible life, and take 

on flesh and blood. 
Believe me, these partners in creation live ; I have 

seen them — the apostles of manhood, of justice, 

of simplicity. 
They can afford to wait. 
If they received now their deserved acclaim we 

might well doubt their right to rank with the 

prophets. 
Our children will build the monuments of Tolstoy, 

and George, and the rest ; 
But how will they treat their own prophets? 
Happy the land that knoweth its prophets before 

they die ! / 

63 



Revolt 
J Revolt 



I 

HAIL, spirit of revolt, thou spirit of life. 
Child of the ideal, daughter of the far-away 
truth ! 
Without thee the nations drag on in a living death ; 
Without thee is stagnation and arrested growth ; 
Without thee Europe and America would be sunk in 

China's lethargy, 
Smothered in the past, having no horizon but the 
actual. 

II 

Hail, spirit of revolt, thou spirit of life. 

Child of eternal love, — 

Love rebelling against lovelessness, life rebelling 

against death ! 
Rise at last to the full measure of thy birthright ; 
Spurn the puny weapons of hate and oppression ; 
Fix rather thy calm, burning, protesting eyes on all 

the myriad shams of man, and they will fade 

away in thinnest air ; 
Gaze upon thy gainsayers until they see and feel the 

truth and love that begat and bore thee. 
Thus and thus only give form and body to thy 

noblest aspirations, 
64 



The Prison 

And we shall see done on earth as it Is in heaven 
God's ever living, growing, ripening will. , 



The Prison ''«# 

AND I saw a gaol lifting its grimy walls to 
heaven. 

And they that passed by looked at it askance, for 
they said, " It is the abode of Sin." 

And to them the broad sky and all the earth was 
fair to look upon, for they saw the early buds 
opening and heard the birds that had come 
back from the South, and they felt the sun 
which was new warming the hearts of beast 
and plant. 

But within the prison, and behind its cold, thick 
buttresses, and its small, round, triple-barred 
windows, that looked like tunnels, they heard 
faint groanings and sighings and much lamen- 
tation, and they said, " It is most just, for it 
is the abode of Sin." 

And I heard a Voice saying, " Woe to the cause 
that hath not passed through a prison ! " 

And I looked again, and I saw in the gaol those 
deliverers who in each age have saved the 
world from itself and set it free, and gyves 
were on their wrists and ankles. 
5 6s 



The Prison 

And I saw Israel in the house of bondage before it 
came forth to preserve Duty for mankind. 

Woe to the cause that hath not passed through a 
prison ! 

And I saw the Praetorian Hall and One that was 
bound therein, and the soldiers bowed the 
knee before Him and mocked Him and then 
led Him away to proclaim Love to the 
world. 

Woe to the cause that hath not passed through a 
prison ! 

And I saw within the gaol them that gave liberty to 
the slave, and them that unbound the mind of 
man, and them that strove to free his con- 
science, and them that led onward to Freedom 
and Justice and Love. 

Woe to the cause that hath not passed through a 
prison ! 

And I saw there also those who in our own time 
have counted themselves as nothing if they 
could but point out God's way unto their 
brethren; and there were many, too, of the 
prophets who are still to come, and these also 
were in bonds. 

Woe to the cause that hath not passed through a 
prison ! 

And lo, the sky became clouded, and night fell, and 
there were no birds nor blossoms, but a chill 
66 



The State-House 

came upon the earth, and they that passed 

by shivered and trembled ; and I beheld, and 

saw that they were not men, but that they 

were really wolves, and apes, and swine. 
And within the gaol was a great light, and a 

pleasant warmth came from the barred 

windows, and I heard a burst of triumphant 

song. 
And the gyves fell from the limbs of the prisoners, 

and there was great joy. 
And they that passed by would now come in but 

they could not ; and now within was freedom 

and without was captivity. 
And the hosts within held up their arms, and the 

marks of their shackles were upon them. 
But I hid my hands behind me, for there was no 

mark on my wrists. 
Woe to the cause that hath not passed through a 

prison ! 



The State-House i&g 

LT P to the State- House wend their way 
^ Some scores of thieves elect; 
For one great recompense they pray : 
" May we grow rich from day to day, 
Although the State be wrecked." 

67 



The State-House 

Up to the State-House climbs with stealth 

Another pilgrim band, — 
The thieves who have acquired their wealth, 
And, careless of their country's health, 

Now bleed their native land. 

And soon the yearly sale is made 

Of privilege and law ; 
The poor thieves by the rich are paid 
Across the counter, and a trade 

More brisk you never saw. 

And we, whose rights are bought and sold, 

With reason curse and swear ; 
Such acts are frightful to behold. 
Nor has the truth been ever told 
Of half the evil there. 

At last the worthless set adjourn ; 

We sigh with deep relief. 
Then from the statute-book we learn 
The record of each theft in turn, 

The bills of every thief. 

Now at a shameful scene pray look ; 

For we who cursed and swore. 
Before this base-born statute-book, 
Whose poisoned source we ne'er mistook, 

Both worship and adore. 
68 



Divus Augustus 

" For law is law," we loud assert, 

And think ourselves astute ; 
Yet quite forgetful, to our hurt, 
That fraud is fraud and dirt is dirt, 

And like must be their fruit. 

We laugh at heathen who revere 

The gods they make of stone, 
And yet we never ask, I fear, 
As we bow down from year to year. 

How we have made our own. 

We all deny the right of kings 

To speak for their Creator; 
May we not wonder, then, whence springs 
The right divine to order things 

Of any legislator ? 



^ Divus Augustus lai^ 



HEARKEN to the chorus of the overfed. 
Their eyes stand out with fatness ; they 
have more than heart could wish, and their 
raiment is purple and fine linen. 
Listen to them as they sing : — 

69 



Divus Augustus 

" All hail to thee, Authority ! Hail to thy ministers ; 

hail ye powers that be, kings and presidents, 

judges and makers of laws ! 
Hail to thee, Authority ! 
Thou standest in high places, and stablishest the 

earth. 
Thou bringest the wicked low, and appointest his 

reward to the upright. 
Thou preservest our goods unto us, and prosperest 

the work of our hands. 
But upon him who would oppose our righteous ways 

thou layest thy heavy hand ; 
Thou leadest him unto bondage, and he is brought in 

sorrow to the grave. 
Thou causest peace to reign upon the earth, for thou 

separatest the troublers from the congregation 

of the just. 
Thou makest the nations rich in glory and honour. 
All hail to thee, Authority ! " 

Now the chorus retires and another advances. 

This is the hungry chorus ; we can count their bones 

through their rags. 
Hearken to them as they sing : — 

" Woe to thee, O Authority, O Moloch ! 
Thou forbiddest murder, and art the prince of 
murderers, — 



Divus Augustus 

Teaching the sons of men how best to slay their 

brethren ; 
Building mighty engines to fill the world with blood 

and every kind of horror ; 
Shaping great ships, that they may send other 

ships with all on board to the bottom of 

the sea. 
Thou condemnest and takest life, though thy judges 

be baser than their prisoners. 
Thou settest up him with a beam in his eye to take 

out the mote from his brother's. 
Thou ordainest him that hath sinned to cast the 

first stone. 

" Thou forbiddest robbery, and art the prince of 
robbers, — 

Thou takest the earth, God's gift to men, from the 
many and givest it to the few, and thus thou 
makest the poor to pay for his own ; 

There is no spot where he can labour or lie down 
and rest, or where his wife can bring forth 
her first-born, or where he can bury his dead, 
without offering tribute of his hard-earned 
wage to thy creatures. 

Thou takest the fruit of his toil, and dividest it to 
the idle. 

Thou makest him to work many hours, that the rich 
may live without labour. 
71 



Divus Augustus 

The toiler hath no time to learn and to attain to the 

full measure of a man. 
He can but work, eat, and sleep, so that the privileged 

may be surfeited with knowledge and pleasure. 
And thus thou stealest his brains for them that 

already have his wealth in their houses. 

" Woe unto thy ministers, O Authority ! 

Woe unto you, ye powers that be, kings and presi- 
dents, judges and makers of laws ! 

Your ways are full of craftiness, of bribery, and 
intrigue, and betrayal of friends ; 

Of pride, haughtiness, craving, and disappointment, 
and hardness of heart ; 

Of contempt for all that is humble, useful, and worthy ; 

Of hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness ; 

Of cringing, envy, and compromise with evil ; 

Of ambition, selfishness, bitterness, and corruption. 

In the wild struggle for life, the violent seize the reins. 

Ye are made drunk with power, until ye think your- 
selves a race apart. 

Ye pretend to all the virtues and honours, and are 
the high priests of hypocrisy. 

" Woe to thee, Authority ! 

Thy crimes are not like the common felon's, which 
all abhor, and thence learn a lesson of righteous- 
ness. 

72 



Divus Augustus 

But thou crownest thy sins with glory ; 

Thou deckest them with silver and gold, and callest 
upon all to bow the knee. 

Freedom is often upon thy lips, but thy foot hath 
alway rested on the neck of the slave. 

Thou hast imprisoned and murdered the prophets of 
old, 

And now thou buildest their monuments and perse- 
cutest them of to-day ; 

Wherefore thou art a witness unto thyself that thou 
art the same Authority which killedst the 
prophets. 

Thou sayest Peace, peace, when there is no peace. 

Can there be peace, when from the least of thy 
minions even unto the greatest of them every- 
one is given to covetousness ? 

What hath peace to do where violence and spoil are 
become the pillars of the commonwealth ? 

Woe unto thee, Authority ! " 

The song has ended. 

Who shall decide the issue? 



73 



To the Russian People 

To the Russian People ia^ 



WE look behind your mask, O People of Russia ; 
We penetrate beyond the shameless, domi- 
neering, robbing, famine - breeding Govern- 
ment ; beyond the thin veneer of borrowed 
culture and vice. 

We gaze into your eyes until we behold your heart 
there. 

We see the long-suffering, patient endurance with 
which you carry your heavy load ; 

Your uncomplaining faith in your destiny as men, 

Your loving-kindness for your fellows, your natural 
affinity for the Christ-life. 

We see these, in spite of all your faults, and in those 
faults themselves we recognise the fruit of im- 
memorial oppression. 

II 

Our hearts go out to you, O Russian People; 
Your vast land is big with fate for the world. 
We look for no barbarian invasion from the old 

fountain of nations in the East ; 
We expect no continued stretching and stiffening of 

the bonds of your empire ; 
74 



On the Rejection of the Treaty of 1897 

But we hail the new dawn there of the old familiar 

good tidings to the poor, rising again upon 

another and brighter day. 
We look to you confidently for a new proclamation 

of the message of peace, goodwill towards 

men. 



On the Rejection of the General 
Arbitration Treaty of 1897 "^a^ 

SHAME on a Senate which withstands 
The efforts of two mighty lands 
Frankly to grasp each other's hands ! 

Are they our servants ? Should they then 
Bring all our dreams to nought again 
Of peace on earth, goodwill toward men ? 

From every class — North, South, East, West — 
Goes up one earnest, loud request, 
" Give us our treaty, and be blest ! " 

The working man, with outstretched hand 
Asks but to work, makes one demand — 
That peace and plenty cheer the land. 
75 



On the Rejection of the Treaty of 1897 

But no ; this deaf, degenerate crew 
Want plenty solely for the few. 
Let war then split our race in two. 



Turn back the years ; let growth stand still, 
And flourish every social ill, 
If so these triflers get their fill. 

Let bluster, envy, spite, conceit. 
Elate at this, their latest feat. 
Boast that their victory is complete. 

What monarch, drunk with martial lust, 
Treading his subjects in the dust, 
E'er proved more recreant to his trust ? 

Are these our patriots, these, the blind, 
Whose love of country is combined 
With petty hate for all mankind ? 

Nay, from their rule we pray release ; 
Soon may such love of country cease. 
They know not love that love not peace. 



1^ 



The Nation's Life 
The Nation's Life tiSI* 



L 



OOK not in the senate halls for the life of the 

nation. 

Their talk is the talk of dreamers ; 
They reel as drunken men ; 
They grope like the blind in the dark. 
The form of life is there, but the spirit hath long 

since fled. 

II 

Look not chiefly in the church or the press ; 

There indeed are dim glimmerings, 

Faint hints of a possible revival, 

Half-stifled cries that tell of discontent and pain ; 

And where there is pain, there is life. 

But, alas, these signs are so few ! 

Ill 
Look rather among the discredited and outcast. 
Meet with them in dingy upper rooms. 
Find, under all their extravagance and error, the 

sound-ringing ore of hope. 
The stone which the builders reject will again be- 
come the head of the corner ; 
For this is the universal law of life. 

77 



A Chorus for the European 

Wherever two or three are gathered in love and self- 
forgetfulness, to make the world better ; 

Wherever men think and feel profoundly, and then 
go forth to act accordingly — 

Look there for the nation's life. 



A Chorus for the European 

''Concert" of 1897 "^^ 



LET the Armenians be imprisoned and die. 
What care we for massacres ? What matters 

it if a few thousands perish, so taxes be levied 

and interest comes in on the very day fixed 

in the bond ? 
A man with a bond in his pocket is worth five 

hundred with bonds on their arms and legs. 
Long live the Turk, for he owes us money. 
There is no Armenian debt, — so much the worse for 

the Armenians, — or we might think it worth 

while to protect them. 
Who says that a national debt is not a national 

blessing ? 
Long live property and the golden bond which 

unites men and nations — the bond of debtor 

and creditor. 

78 



'Xoncert" of 1897 



But we must Interfere to help the poor oppressed 

Turk in Crete, for his name is on our bonds. 
Down with the wretched Cretans ! 
They do not owe us anything; 
Why, then, should they cumber the ground ? 
Oh, all ye nations of the world, if ye wish to live in 

safety and happiness. 
Come to our pawnshops, and borrow and borrow, 

and bind yourselves soul and body to us. 
Long live property and national debts, and bonds, 

bonds, bonds ! 
May no Moses ever arise to lead the people out of 

this house of bondage. 
Did anyone say " Liberty " ? Nay, put him out ; 

drown the discord. 
Long live property, property, property ! 

The Election of 1896 "IS^ 

THE honest dollar! 
A good motto that to catch the unwary, 
But misapplied to any idol, gold or silver ; 
A watchword destined, perhaps, some day to adorn 

another standard. 
When men have at last delved down to the deeper 
issue. 

79 



The Narrow Path 

The honest dollar — 

The dollar earned by useful, glad, equivalent, 

honoured labour, 
Pitted against the shame-faced dollar — 
The dollar begged, borrowed, extorted, or stolen. 



/ 



The Narrow Path iflu 

WE are still sitting by the wayside. 
We heard the old cry, " Come out of her, 
My people," and we determined to escape 
from the wickedness of the world. 

We forsook all, and turned into the steep, narrow 
path that seemed to lead out. 

We had not climbed long before we met another 
band returning, ragged, emaciated, and foot- 
sore. 

" Turn back," they whispered hoarsely. " We too 
heard the cry, and we have pushed on to the 
end of the path. 

" Oh, the bitter, hard, monotonous, weary journey ! 

" And there at the end we saw a gate, and an angel 
standing with a flaming sword which turned 
every way, to keep the way of paradise. 

" And the angel said, ' Who are ye ? ' 

" And we answered, * We be men who would escape 
the sin of the world.' 
80 



The Narrow Path 

" And he said, * Where are all your brethren ? Are 

ye not their keepers ? ' 
" And we replied, ' We have left them behind us.' 
" But the angel frowned and shook his head. 
" * How can ye hope to come forth alone ? ' he 

cried. 
" ' Did not God give you a world stored with all good 

things, enough and to spare? 
" ' Have ye not so used them that want and hunger 

and vice stalk about among you ? 
" ' While in the market-place starving men stand all 

the day idle, others of you know not what to 

do with their surfeit. 
*' ' Every man worketh in the fear that to-morrow he 

may no longer find work to do. 
" ' Ye have brought things to such a pass that the 

evil-doer is your greatest benefactor. 
" ' He that wasteth his substance in riotous living, he 

that destroyeth the wealth ye have made, he 

that setteth fire to a city, is even a blessing 

to the land, for he giveth work to them that 

need it. 
" ' He that maketh away with his fellow, the wanton 

slayer of his brother, is a public benefactor; for 

he either removeth him that could find no work, 

and was hence a burden upon you, or else he 

maketh room among the workers for one of 

the idle. 
6 Si 



The Narrow Path 

" ' And so your wise men pray for war as a god-send, 

and shut out the men and the wealth of other 

countries at your ports ; and in thus doing evil 

they bless your land. 
" * And he that doeth good among you is become 

your torment. 
" ' Everyone who turneth to useful work maketh others 

idle and taketh the bread from the mouths of 

their children. 
" ' Every artificer in brass and iron who inventeth an 

engine by which one man may easily do the 

toil of an hundred, and which should thus give 

rest and leisure and plenty to thousands, 
" ' Every such an one becometh a curse to thousands, 

for he taketh away their means of livelihood. 
" ' And while thus your men stand useless and 

helpless, 
" ' Ye lay your burdens on your women and little 

children ; 
" * And they fill your factories and workshops from 

the rising of the sun even unto the going down 

of the same. 
" ' And this is what ye have done with the talents 

which were given you. 
" * Your trade is builded upon oppression, and lying, 

and fraud, and adulteration ; 
" ' Ye have so limited the bounty of God that the fear 

of failure doggeth every man's steps, and he 
S2 



« ( 



The Narrow Path 

seeketh safety in a rivalry that would shame 

the devils in hell. 
Your one motto is ever, " Outstrip your neigh- 
bour ; either he goes under, or you." 
" * And ye would escape alone from this world that 

ye have made? 
" * Ye who have needs done wrong every day and 

hour, 
" * Ye who have made good evil and evil good, 
" ' Ye who are part and parcel of your bankrupt race, 
" ' Would ye now hide your talent in a napkin ? 
" * Would ye flee from the rest, and leave them to go 

on sinning for you and in your stead ? 
" ' Nay, not so. Go back and suffer altogether. 
" ' Proclaim a fast, and put on sackcloth, from the 

greatest of you even unto the least of you. 
" ' In your humiliation not one of you must be left 

out. Ye can only escape from sin by taking 

their sin upon you and leading them all out 

of sin. 
" ' Go back and make your own paradise, for ye 

would sicken and die here in a separate 

heaven of your own.' 
" And the angel ceased. And we turned and fled, for 

we saw that there was no issue to this path. 

Come back with us ; come back." 
And the little band passed on down the steep, 

winding path, 

83 



Doubt 

While we sat down at the wayside and looked at 
each other, and wondered whether they had 
heard the angel aright. ^ 



Doubt 



THE work of the world is bound up with in- 
justice and oppression ; 
I cannot even hoe potatoes without cheapening them 

and throwing men out of employment. 
Must I then renounce my part in the daily task of the 
human race so that I may remain blameless? 
Ah, blamelessness is a poor, negative goal, even if it 

were possible to reach it. 
Must I hide my talent in a napkin lest it be soiled ? 

II 

The great captains of industry, with all their sins, 

still carry on the business of mankind ; 
May I not lend a hand, for fear of sharing in fraud 

and extortion? 
Does my conscience point that way? 
And what if my conscience grows stronger and more 

imperious, 
Until it leaves no foothold for me in this world of 

wrong ? 

84 



Doubt 
III 

Away, tempter ! I cannot throw conscience over- 
board. 

It is my compass, and shows me my course. Further 
than that I am ignorant. 

I have no chart of heaven and earth, and I cannot 
tell whither I am sailing ; 

But even in the darkness of the storm, when neither 
land nor constellation is in view, 

I can keep my eye on the needle and my hands on 
the helm, 

And steer straight. 

IV 

True, this course may lead to death. But what 
then ? 

In such deaths life has ever found fresh impulse. 

The proof that, as things are, man cannot live and 
be honest — 

Could anything rouse the world to better things 
more surely than such proof? 

Witnesses to this fact, though they die in testifying, 
martyrs though they become, these too have 
their share, their blameless share, in bearing 
the world onward on their shoulders. 



8s 



A Walk in the Woods 
A Walk in the Woods 



I WALK alone in the June forest. 
The great leaves of the oak seedlings hide 

the ground between the tree-trunks. 
A startled chipmunk runs across my path. 
A black-poll warbler, perched on a hemlock bough 

close by me, cries " screep-screep " to his mate, 

and pays no attention to me. 
Here, four centuries ago, before ever the pale-face 

peered in among the hickory and chestnut 

trees, the Indian chief was wont to stride, 

proud in his paint and feathers. 
Come back, my red-skinned brother; give me your 

hand, and let us thread our way together 

through the familiar woods. 
You cannot understand me ; I can only guess at 

you ; but still I see that in some things you 

are my superior. 
I admire your simple life, your carelessness of 

hoarded wealth. 
The equality of your customs, producing neither 

paupers nor millionaires. 
I appreciate your stalwart frame, your piercing eye 

and sensitive ear, your exultant courage in 

battle, your unflinching submission to torture ; 
86 



A Walk in the Woods 

But above all I am fain to covet your unhesitating 

acceptance of your lot. 
You are on such friendly terms with the great 

Mystery ! 
You do not pester it, as I do, with unseemly 

questions ; 
You are not beset with a sickly inquisitiveness ; 
You take your proper place in the Mystery itself, as 

the swallow makes his nest in the barn, and 

you trouble it as little as it troubles you. 

II 

And yet I know that I am farther advanced than 

you are. 
This journey from you to me had to be travelled ; 
These questions had to be put ; the answers had to 

be wearily sought. 
When the cycle is completed, 
When man gets back to another and higher point of 

equipoise. 
Then at last he will know the why and wherefore of 

it all. 

Ill 

While we walk together, brother, let us call another 

comrade to join us. 
See, he is coming toward us — he, the ultimate man 

who will tread these paths at the end of the 

87 



A Walk in the Woods 

cycle, four hundred or four thousand years 
hence. 

He presses in between us, and we three move on 
together hand in hand. 

What love and strength there are in his look and in 
his gait ! 

We cannot take his measure, but he comprehends us 
both. 

He has all your vigorous out-door virtues, and mine 
of the thoughtful fireside. 

How he embraces us and sums us up and transcends 
us ! 

I think that I read gratitude too in his eyes as he 
gazes upon us. 

He knows that we made him what he is : 

That your childlike simplicity and instinctive 
ferocity, that my morbid scruples and hair- 
splitting philosophy were all steps up to 
him. 

If he could envy anyone, he might perhaps envy us 
our creative influence ever widening down the 
ages. 

Come, my brothers, let us mutually interchange and 
enjoy each others' functions and fruition. 

For one brief hour let us plough and sow and culti- 
vate and reap the harvest together. 

Let us all share in common the eternal, divine man- 
hood, in which we are really one. 
88 



Prophet, Priest, and King 

Nor will it be only for an hour, 

For I shall never walk these woods unaccompanied 
again. 



Prophet, Priest, and King 



M 



AN is one. 

All ages are bound together. 
The is grew out of the was and in turn becomes the 

will be. 
We all travel the same road, in the same caravan ; 

some before, some behind ; 
The prophet in the van linking us to the religion of 

the future. 
The priest in the rear linking us to the religion of 

the past. 
We trudge on between, looking forward or back- 
ward. 
But forgetful, most of us, of the real religion 

above ; 
Blind to the eternal now, in which priest and prophet 

are at one together, united in the present 

king. 
And where old types and symbols tally with the 

newest dreams. 



89 



Man 



Man 



" A ND God created man in His own image." 
JLjL What has become of that lost type ? 

If we could see it now reappearing, how would 
that first ideal compare with yours and 
mine ? 

In thousands of men and women — martyrs, heroes, 
sages, poets, artisans, ploughmen, seamen, 
soldiers, criminals, and outlaws — 

We may gather his scattered lineaments and re- 
construct him. 

He must have the innocence and humility of the 
saint, the power of self-conquest of the ascetic, 
the broad vision of the seer, the loving-kind- 
ness of the lover of men. 

The unquestioning devotion to quiet usefulness of 
the labourer, the submission and the contempt 
for danger of the sailor and trooper. 

He must show the nonchalance of the gamester, the 
geniality of the tippler, the easy manners of 
the dissipated man of the world. 

He must feel the absolute freedom, the revolt 
against all external unassimilated law, of the 
felon, the anarchist, and the atheist. 

He must be endowed with all the intelligence, 
strength, vigour, and energy of the un- 
90 



Man 

scrupulous captain of industry who relent- 
lessly moulds the social forces to his will. 

His must be the ambition, self-sufficiency, and 
command of the proud ruler of armied states. 

He must wield all the powers of selfishness and hate 
under the supreme sway of an infinite com- 
passion and love. 

He must control these sinister forces in himself as a 
Greek demi-god firmly planted on the back of 
an unruly stallion. 

There is no man or woman living who cannot con- 
tribute some trait to the ideal, comprehensive 
man. 

There is no human note, high or low, which has not 
its place in the wide scale of his being. 

We are busy to-day fashioning this divine creature ; 
For the sun has not yet gone down on the sixth 

creative day. 
The sabbath of rest is still to come, it it ever 

comes ; 
For the Father worketh even until now, and we 

work. 
We are His conscious partners in creating man in 

His own image. 



91 



The Ball-Match 
The Ball=Match 



WHY do respectability and refinement and 
education and station present such deaden- 
ing surfaces to me? 
Even here in church, where they talk of communion 
and unity, the fashionable congregation is a 
mere chance collection of separate units. 
If they are really in communication with heaven, 

each worshipper must have a special wire. 
As between themselves they are absolutely insulated ; 
for purple and fine linen are the surest spiritual 
non-conductors. 
Perhaps if there were patches on their trousers or 
holes at their elbows some virtue might ooze 
out of them or penetrate into them. 

II 

For my part, I find more real religion at a base-ball 
match than in a Fifth Avenue church. 

The good-natured crowd surges in when the gates 
are opened, and soon the wooden benches are 
black with people up to the highest tier. 

Vendors of score-cards and refreshments cry their 
wares. 

92 



The Ball-Match 

Pea-nuts are in great demand, and the empty shells 
are scattered right and left. 

The floor is not innocent of tobacco juice nor the 
air of profanity. 

The game is called : a witty onlooker shouts out 
some bantering remark to one of the players, 
and all within sound of his voice laugh up- 
roariously. 

The captain of the home team bats far afield and 
gains his base, while the whole crowd, fused 
into one by enthusiasm, rises to its feet with 
a tremendous cheer. 

When the visitors score a well-deserved run there is 
applause too, but it is more reserved and 
measured, and we are conscious of our 
magnanimity. 

There are constant cries of encouragement, of dis- 
appointment, of criticism of the umpire ; 

But the prevailing note is one of fellow-feeling, of 
common interest, of sympathy. 

These are indeed vulgar wayside flowers, but from 
them the soul may distil honey. 

When I think of the ball-match, St. Frigida's seems 
to me like an ice-house. 



93 



Orbits 



^ Orbits 



I LOVE you, just where you are, 
But go no farther away and draw no closer. 

When we are all whirling in our proper orbits, 

How we exult in the forces that play between us, 

Rioting with the centrifugal, plunging with the 
centripetal, 

And yet calm and unshaken in such a divine 
equilibrium ! 

But oh, the derangement when we lose the just 
balance and deviate from the way ! 

Here collisions, there explosions, 

Death and havoc and hate ! 

Nay, even in the universe of love, there are respect- 
ful distances to be observed, 

If we are to have dignity and unity and harmony. 



^ Love 



Do you complain that I do not love you as I 
ought ? 
That if you should drop by the wayside I would 
walk on and waste no time in useless 
lamentation ? 

94 



Do you Shrink 

It is true and it is false. 

In loving you I love more than you. 

When I embrace you my arms encircle something 

vague and vast behind you. 
When I gaze into the depths of your eyes I look 

beyond the farthest constellation. 
You are not a finality ; you are the way. 
Through you and in you I love the whole world. 
If you fall at my side, I know that you will still be 

walking by me. 
If I fall myself, I shall only be the closer to you. 
Why then should we be anxious, when we may 

live where there is neither separation nor 

death ? 
Love on a lower plane is but a brief illusion. • 



Do you Shrink 

Do you shrink at the idea of merging yourself 
in others? 
Are you afraid of the shock? Is it like a cold 
plunge? Do you suppose that you will be 
submerged and lost? 
Not so. You will not lose yourself in the universal, 
like the Buddhist, but it is there that you will 
find yourself. 
Now, solitary, separate, unrelated, you are nothing ; 

95 



The Great Mystery 

When you think to stand alone, you are really not 

standing at all ; 
Yet with all your conceit and ambition you have 

not in your wildest dreams imagined what 

you might be. 
Dash in boldly with your arms outstretched, and 

learn that you are a god. 



The Great Mystery laif 

I 

IT does not satisfy, your philosophy. 
What is this energy oozing up into our being? 
Does it grow, develop, evolve unguided, unpropelled. 
Struggling on blindly from dead, dark beginnings 

in old chaos towards some central radiant 

fulfilment in the far-away ages to be? 
Is my consciousness and yours its highest point 

to-day ? 
Does it nowhere else feel itself, question itself, know 

itself? 
Is God then still to be waited for? 
Nay, nay ; this cannot be. 

II 

Ah, we who thread our narrow way through the 
infinite real, 

96 



The Great Mystery 

Who must see in succession even the tiny portions 

that we do see, 
Who name our little journey " time," and put the 

past before the future, because we entered by 

the one door and are hastening on to the 

other, 
What do we know of eternity ? 

Ill 
That which is growing is also full-grown. 
That which is prophesied is. 
The dream of the seer is more solid than earth. 
The end was attained long, long ago, and the 

beginning is yet to come. 
Like shuttles, our little lives go on for ever weaving 

the web and woof of the real ; 
Yet for ever the ideal was, filling the all. 
Though no man hath seen the Father at any time, 
Still His infinite self-consciousness inhabiteth eternity, 
And eternally saith, " I am." 

IV 

Round the citadel ot the eternal selfhood we are 

bivouacked. 
Most of us asleep at our posts, unmindful of our 

great task to gain a foothold there. 
Only here and there a stray company look for a 

breach, 
7 97 



The Great Mystery 

And succeed only by reversing their outer natures, 
Abandoning all they have hitherto lived for, 
Losing their life to find it. 
The clinging, social, pliant Hindoo cuts himself off 

from his fellows, and lives as a hermit, 
Strengthening his will until it becomes superhuman, 
Mastering his thoughts and desires, treading his 

body in the dust; 
At last passing in for a time, feeling the divine 

warm air surging about him. 
Retaining only enough of self to feel the ineffable joy. 
The feeble thus taking the kingdom of heaven by 

force. 
His self-centred, self-reliant brother of the West 

meanwhile denies his outer nature too, 
More slowly but more surely seeking admittance, 
Forgetting himself, merging himself in his fellows, 

striving to love his neighbour. 
Moving thus indirectly on the stronghold. 
Destined perhaps to find the drawbridge down, the 

doors wide open. 
The power of love supreme where will could but win 

a doubtful, transitory victory. 

V 
And in the moment of success in East and West 
alike, the mystery of sex strangely suggests 
itself, 

98 



The Great Mystery 

The union of God and man in some way recalling 

the union of man and woman ; 
The same experience recorded in the earliest days, 

and typified in tabernacle and temple ; — 
Jehovah jealous of Israel, His spouse ; 
Osiris, the vine-grower, Isis, the giver of corn, leading 

the Egyptian mysteries hand in hand ; 
Bacchus and Ceres, wine and bread, wedded at 

Eleusis ; 
Christ and the Church, the bridegroom and the bride, 

again represented in the same elements at the 

great Christian feast. 
Sex too at the centre of the Brahmin worship ; 
Saint and adept detecting the same passion in their 

religion. 
Sex, in spite of all science, a great mystery. 
Felt to-day in the sense of shame in his own person 

by the philosopher himself, who would sweep 

all mysteries away and all religion with them. 

VI 

Howbeit, this is our goal, to be put in touch with 
the universal consciousness, to find the hidden 
living bond between all, beneath all ; 

To recall the primal oneness, to realise the unity 
that is and ever shall be ; 

To know that whatever grand fruition the ages hold 
in store, 
L.ofC. 99 



The Way and the End 



The same was in the beginning with God. 

This is the reaHty behind our Httle socialisms and 

communisms, 
This the essence of religion and of life. 



The Way and the End ^«^ 



THE Way begins in the sense of sin, in self- 
abhorrence and renunciation, in acknowledged 

emptiness ; 
It winds through self-denial, through submission 

and meekness and humility, through patience 

and long-suffering; 
It leads us up higher, past the forgiveness of others 

and the acceptance of them upon their own 

terms ; 
Such is the Way, but it is not the End. 

II 

The End is the consciousness of the heaven-born 
selfhood ; 

The new self, found and loved in eternal fellowship ; 

The self-centred, self-sufficient pride of divine man- 
hood ; 

The glad fulness of exultant, unbounded, everlasting, 
almighty love. 

100 



The Seed 



The Seed 



THE seed is the magician of life. 
Dropped into the dead soil of the field or 

of our souls, 
It draws the inert matter into its mysterious moulds, 
Transforms it into a living thing of beauty, 
And sends up its flowering miracle to the light of 

day. 
Opening for us a channel even unto heaven. 
It subdues easiest the vilest rotting humus, — the 

publican and the sinner, — 
And is baffled only by the stony pride of scribe 

and Pharisee. 
It is a winged particle of the central life, 
Sent forth to spread that life, and, spreading it, to 

make all things new. 



Initiation ifii^ 



IT is a glorious thing to be really alive, — 
To feel one's self a co-operating agent in the 
mysterious business of the universe, — 
To be admitted as a member of the gigantic 
trust, — 

lOI 



Initiation 

To be initiated into the central labour union of 

all,— 
Once for all to be let into the secrets of the cosmic 

conspiracy. 

II 

Yon star winks down at me and gives me the pre- 
concerted sign ; 

The woodpecker drums the password on a resonant 
dead bough ; 

I return their signals and hail them both as 
brothers. 

For are we not all engaged in the self- same 
enterprise ? 

Do we not get our impulse from the same general 
headquarters ? 

Ill 

Nor is ours an exclusive combine. 

We do not measure our privileges from any outside 
penury. 

We wish to leave nothing outside. 

Our only message to you who insist on staying 
without is the persistently reiterated, per- 
sistently rejected invitation to come in on 
the ground-floor. 



I02 



The Ladder of Truth 



The Ladder of Truth 



SIN, justice, fear, an angry Judge — with these 
we are on the lowest round of the ladder of 

truth. 
How long the world dwelt there, and how many 

still look back regretful to those days ! 
One step higher and we find forgiveness and a Father. 
For most men that is the last word, but we must 

press upward. 
Beyond fatherhood and brotherhood we grope 

toward organic oneness — we dimly feel that 

God is palpitating, all-embracing love. 



Truth Again 

SECRETE truth in your intellect, and you will 
find it a heavy burthen. 
There it will only cloy and glut and obstruct. 
Truth is not food for knowledge but for life. 
You must love the truth and feel the truth and 

assimilate the truth. 
What you need is not truth known but truth lived. 
Truth cannot be stored away without ceasing to be 

truth ; 
It cannot be idle without becoming a lie. 

103 



Self-Denial 



</ Self = Denial ia# 

GIVE Up nothing so long as you can help giving 
it up. 
Do not deny yourself until self insists on being 

denied. 
Let the flood of rebellion against selfishness gather 

above the dam till it sweeps all before it. 
Gorge yourself with quails until you loathe them. 
When at last luxury and privilege and authority fill 

you with disgust, 
Then seek out the poor, because you cannot do 

otherwise ; 
Become satisfied with your simple manhood, because 

you have learned that it is the sum of all 

possessions. 



I 



Be Still 



BE still, my soul. 
Rest awhile from the feverish activities in 
which you lose yourself. 
Be not afraid to be left alone with yourself for one 
short hour. 

104 



Beware 

Aspire upward, inward, until, as from a mountain top, 

you have a glimpse over all the world. 
See the little fields in which men toil, ignorant of all 

beyond the hedge ; 
There but a few minutes ago you were rushing to 

and fro. 
Look forth now and fix upon your memory the 

great outlines of God's kingdom ; 
Store up within you the treasures of that outlook. 
And then descend once more with shining face into 

the plain. 
Let it be your task henceforward to externalise the 

secrets of that vision./ 



Beware i»^ 

HAVE you always been respected by your 
•• neighbours? 
Do they ask your advice on all important matters ? 
Do they all speak well of you, and point you out as 

a leading citizen and a pillar of society ? 

Has no one ever said that you were beside yourself, 

Or called you crazy, or a crank, or a pestilent fellow ? 

Have you never been accused of associating with 

publicans and sinners, or of stirring up the 

people, or of turning the world upside down ? 

105 



Not I 

In short, are you thoroughly respectable ? 

Then beware ! you are on the downward road ; you 

are in bad company. 
Mend your ways, or you can claim no kinship with 

the saints and heroes which were before 

you. y 



Not I iaii# 

OH, I love mankind, as is their due, 
With all my might and main. 
It is true that I sometimes seem to do 
A rather unloving thing or two, 
But it always gives me pain. 

Thus it is when I can't give a debtor time 

On a mortgage he's trying to lift. 
But you see, so far from being a crime, - 
It's a duty — and duties are all sublime- 
To foreclose and turn him adrift. 

And it's easy enough for me to show 

The innocence of my act. 
It was not as myself that I acted so, 
(For I never would hurt a fly, you know), 

But just as attorney-in-fact. 
io6 



Not I 



While the unemployed are with us still, 

My soul is quite dejected. 
I only vote for the Tariff Bill, 
That closes many a German mill, 

As a senator elected. 

'Tis true, I once looted a poor man's farm 

And burnt his house to boot ; 
But the fact is, I only did him harm 
(And my heart the while was intensely warm) 

As a cavalry recruit. 

And once again I condemned a youth 

To be hanged in the early morn ; 
But I did it not as myself forsooth, 
(You must admit that I tell the truth), 
But as judge commissioned and sworn. 

And when I declare the rents too low. 

It is only as trustee. 
You may blame me as agent of Richard Roe, 
As director, official, or so and so, 

But never at all as me. 

Still the question will arise unbid, 
"Is there aught, since my life began, 

That I ever do or ever did 

(If there is, it has been most deftly hid) 
As a plain and simple man ? " 
107 



Lex Talionis 

And it surely is very odd to see 

The effect of our point of view. 
It's a curious plan, you must agree, 
While j/ou do my dirty work for me, 
That I should do yours for you. 

Brothers of mine, if we might all 

Have our lives to live over again : 
If every deed we might recall, 
And never do anything, great or small, 
That we would not do as men — 

Then at last our conscience would begin 

To show us its native powers, 
And how much of pain and sorrow and sin, 
And crime, confusion and strife and din, 

Would be spared this world of ours 1 



Lex Talionis 



"AN eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." 
-^"a. This great law has never been abrogated, 
and we still pray, " Forgive us our debts, 
as we forgive our debtors." 
Forgiveness alone begets forgiveness. 
In some form you must render the eye and the 
tooth, even if it be but in the relinquishment 
io8 



The Regiment 



of your just claim to the eye and tooth of 

another. 
The law still lives, but, thank God, you and I are 

not the executioners. 
Who hath made us to be judges between men ? 
Like all true laws, it executes itself. 
We reap what we sow, but it is not ours to interfere 

with our neighbour's harvest. 
" Vengeance is Mine; I will repay," saith the 

Lord 



The Regiment 



THE regiment is passing down the street to 
embark for the war. 
The band is playing a stirring, swelling march. 
The colonel rides alone, with the easy excellence 
and mastery of a perfect horseman on a 
perfect horse. 
The rank and file march proudly by with eyes fixed 

before them. 
There is conscious courage and self-sacrifice in their 

look. 
Their bayonets are glancing in the sun. 

109 



The Regiment 



II 



The crowd on each side is carried away with 
enthusiasm, hurrahing, waving handkerchiefs 
and hats, and some even shedding tears. 

It is indeed a thrilling sight. 

I stand at a window disapproving, and yet the 
excitement beats up against me and over- 
whelms me. 

It is fine; it is grand ; it is splendid ! 

I wave my handkerchief with the rest, and my eyes 
too become moist. 



Ill 

And yet I know what these men are advancing to. 
They will slaughter other men as courageous and 

self-sacrificing as themselves, and against 

whom they have no grievance. 
They will grasp others as lovable by the throat in a 

death struggle, and one life or the other will 

go out in hate. 
They will fill a distant land with moanings and 

groanings and torments, with widows and 

orphans. 
They will do all this and more, and yet I am forced 

unwillingly to feel that there is something 

magnificent in their spirit and carriage, 
no 



The New Commandment 

IV 

What baleful influence has thus mingled the good 

with the evil ? 
How come God and the devil to be thus inextricably 

intertwined ? 
Ah, it is the riddle of the age, to separate these 

contrary principles of life and death. 
To stamp out all that is cruel and diabolical, without 

treading on the smallest atom of divine 

manliness and devotion. 
Must we wait long for a heaven-born solution ? 
God forbid ! but meanwhile I stand at my window, 

waving my handkerchief with shame and 

hesitation. 



The New Commandment la^ 



LIVE in others ; 
Have life abundantly, but have it in the 
circle of the beloved. 
Bathe yourself with rapture in the crowd on the 

street ; 
Let the bath in the unwashed, unkempt, elbowing 
multitude be to you as a dip in the sea, 
III 



The New Commandment 

For it purifies the soul as the salt, heaving ocean 

purifies. 
Let your attitude to all men be one of continual 

embrace. 
So do, and death will not know where to find you. 

II 

These expressions of love to your fellows, — 
The glad eye, the hand-shake, the evident con- 
tent, — 
They but reflect a new truth at the bottom of your 

soul. 
Do your branches spread out among the boughs of 

the forest? 
So, in equal measure, your hidden, mysterious roots 

are feeling their way. 
There in the depths is the source of all ; 
There you are stretching out to God ; 
There you find the message that you bear to your 

neighbour. 
Your chief significance lies in this, that you help 

bind your neighbour to God, as he in turn 

may help to bind you. 
It is thus that you complete the magnetic circuit of 

the universe, and share in the all-vibrating 

Love. 



112 



Life's Tragedy 
Life's Tragedy 



THE loneliness of souls 
Talking of companionship and brother- 
hood, but finding them not ; 

Praying that others may be one with them, 

But the others stoutly refusing to comply, 

And in the hour of trial forsaking and fleeing ; 

And then the still sharper pang of disappointment, 
as we long for the abstract unity of all, 

And yet surprise our very selves in the act of 
rebelling before the concrete case ; 

Filled with disgust at another's trivial fault ; 

Refusing to pour forth our treasures for him ; 

Doubtful even if we have treasures to pour forth ; 

Aware of unsounded depths of malice and loveless- 
ness within ; 

Feeling perhaps less brotherly than those who have 
no glorious dreams — 

This, this is the tragedy of conscious human life ! 

II 

Those who live unconsciously, 
Ignorant of their own limitations, 
Blind to the wall that hems them in in solitary 
confinement, 
8 113 



After the Procession 

Touching others at the rim, and knowing nothing 
of the possibiHty of closer contact ; 

Unmindful of sources and roots, and the attraction 
and heat and light of invisible solar orbs ; 

Paralysed and numb at the very centre — 

Who shall say that their fate is not even more tragic ? 



After the Procession 



AN hour has passed since the procession has 
vanished down the avenue. 
The crowd which had waited expectant from early 

morning has at last melted away. 
They went as they came, down the side streets east 

and west, to their teeming tenements in the 

direction of the river fronts. 
Working men, women, children, and babes in arms — 
All day long they were huddled together on the 

brown stone stoops of the fine houses along 

the line of march. 
Or else stood patiently on the curb, scarcely restrained 

by the rows of policemen. 
Now they have all gone, weary and sated, to their 

homes, 
Leaving behind them the marks of their unwonted 

incursion. 

114 



After the Procession 

Cigar stumps, greasy brown paper, redolent of ham 
sandwiches and cheese, rubbish of many kinds, 
pollute the proud doorsteps and area-ways 
and litter the side-walk. 

Contemptuous butlers and housemaids emerge to 
sweep and scour away every vestige of the 
plebeian merry-making; 

All will soon be clean again, and the atmosphere 
sweet once more to our nostrils. 

II 
We pray for salvation, and fail to recognise it at our 

very doors. 
These crowds bring the purest, life-giving mountain 

air to our souls, and we turn away. 
Not reluctantly but gladly should we admit them, 

not only to our threshold but to the holy of 

holies of our heart. 
The refuse which they strew about, these offences to 

our over-nice ears and eyes and noses, are but 

vulgar illusions. 
Who knows how much good, how much of joyful 

experience, we sweep away with them ? 
Let us open our doors, throw down our area railings, 

and allow the rabble to surge in to our inner- 
most selves ; 
For this is the price of salvation and of life. 
If we stop short of this, we shall never have lived. 

115 



The Friar and the Devil 

The Friar and the Devil "^a 

I 

I THANK God that I am a friar of the order of 
St. Francis, 
For he never forgets his little brothers ; 
And without him how should I ever have subdued 

the devil ? 
Ay, for the devil worried me sorely. 
Not that I did not know what true life was ; 
For had I not felt the holy ecstasy, 
The profound flow within from the waist upward, 
Lifting me till my very feet no longer touched the 

ground. 
And filling me with love for every creature ? 
But that was only now and again, when I had done 

some little act of kindness, or when I knelt 

gazing long at the picture of the Blessed 

Virgin in my cell. 
Ah, the devil knows when to strike, and at such times 

he left me alone ; 
But in the tiresome stretches between he watched his 

chances. 
And when he hits he does not fight fairly, for he 

always hits below the belt. 
Drawing the current of life downward, until the whole 

man sinks in the mire. 
ii6 



The Friar and the Devil 

So I prayed to St. Francis, but for a time he came 

not. 
And I thought to myself, " How strange it is that I 

should really be the vilest man on earth ; 
If people saw my thoughts and imaginations how 

they would abhor me." 
For it was true then that the devil had my mind fast 

in his toils. 
Except that I still prayed to St. Francis. 

II 

Now on the eve of the Second of August, 

The great day on which he offers us absolution each 

year, 
I prayed to him harder than ever, feeling that he 

must come now ; 
And I went to sleep peacefully and full of hope. 
And behold, he did come, looking for all the world 

like the picture in the refectory, with the holes 

in the back of his hands and an angel over 

each shoulder, and he held a scroll with a text 

on it before him. 
And I cried, " Oh, good St. Francis, do kill the devil 

and lift me up to the holy life again." 
But he looked very solemn, and the angels seemed 

quite shocked, and he said : 
" I would fain lift thee up, but I cannot kill the devil." 
Then my heart fainted within me. 

117 



The Friar and the Devil 

" What can I do, dear Saint ? " I sighed. " Who can 

help me, if not thou ? " 
And then he smiled, and said : 
" Thou should'st ask our little brother the devil to 

help lift thee up." 
And then the angels smiled too. 
And with these words on his lips he slowly faded 

away, and I got up and wrote them down 

while they were still in my ears. 
And then indeed they frightened me, for if St. 

Francis had not uttered them himself, and if 

the angels had not smiled, I should have said 

that they were rank heresy, which God forbid. 

Ill 

But I could not doubt our own good Saint. 

And when the devil came again that self-same night, 
instead of trying to grasp him by the throat, 
as I was wont to do, I looked at him kindly, 
and said : 

" Dear little brother, do not pull me down any 
farther ; but lend me thy shoulder and push 
me up, and let that wonderful vigour of thine 
run up through me towards heaven and not 
downwards to the mire." 

And while I was still speaking, I saw the devil no 
longer, but I felt the old ecstasy, only a 
thousandfold stronger than ever; and I loved 
ii8 



The Wise and Foolish Seeds 

God and all created things as never before, 
and my soul seemed to soar in the air. 
And now the joy abides with me, and every day I 
thank St. Francis that he did not slay the devil. 



The Wise and Foolish Seeds la^ 



TWIN seeds lay together in the warm womb of 
the garden. 

From one of them a tiny shoot sped upward and 
another downward. 

" Beware," cried the down-shoot to his fellow ; " you 
are going in the wrong direction. I know that 
I am right ; I feel it in my inmost sap. Mother 
Earth is calling us down to her ; turn back 
from your mad career." 

" Nay," responded the up-shoot ; " it is you who are 
at fault. The sun is beckoning to us from 
above ; push up to the surface of the ground 
with me. We cannot both be right, and I am 
sure of my own course." 

And so they wrangled until they both doubted, and 
their strength was wasted in argument and 
conjecture ; and the growing days passed by 
unimproved, and the frost came, and the seed 
died without having seen the daylight. 
119 



Shine like the Sun 

II 

And in like manner two shoots made their appear- 
ance in the other seed. 

" Farewell, my brother," said one to the other ; 

" Follow your call, and I will follow mine, and so we 
shall both work together for the good of all." 

And each went his way, the one sucking up the riches 
of the soil and passing them up to the stem, 
and the other drinking in the air and sunlight 
and sending them down to the root. 

And there grew from that seed a beautiful red- 
flowering shrub, which filled the air with its 
perfume and scattered its seeds in due time to 
the winds. 



Shine like the Sun ^mg 

SHINE like the sun on one and all, on the evil 
and on the good, on the just and on the un- 
just, on the obliging and on the disobliging, 
on them that love and on them that hate. 
This is no sign of weakness or foolishness, of a mean 

spirit or of fear. 
It but shows our near relation to the source of all 

force and light and heat and life ; 
It proves the inexhaustible resources of the mighty 
reservoir on which we draw. 
1 20 



Whither and Whence? 



Whither and Whence? ^^^ 

WHITHER and whence? 
How the old world of matter goes travel- 
ling through me atom by atom, 
Coming I know not whence, 

Sojourning with me for a day or a week or a year, 
Coursing in my blood, camping out in my flesh and 
bone, and then off again I know not whither. 
Leaving its old familiar mask behind it, as if to say, 
So much for your identity. 

Whither and whence ? 

The world of spirit too glides through me — 

Dreams, thoughts, affections, aspirations, whether I 

wake or sleep ; 
Now asserting themselves peremptorily. 
Now in gentler mood letting themselves be marshalled 

and subordinated. 
But always on the march. 
Coming from one land of mystery and hastening on 

to another. 

Whither and whence ? 

Here I stand nicely balanced at the cross roads, 
The two processions ever traversing each other with- 
out noise or jostle ; 

121 



Whither and Whence? 

Here I stand toiling day and night to put up a sign- 
post, 

Asking the passers-by in vain the whence and 
whither. 

They pursue their journey without turning their faces, 
and leave me none the wiser. 

Whither and whence ? 

The simple folk of old had their sign-post. 

Where the roads crossed they lifted up another cross ; 

It meant the divine crossing the human in love, 

Joining it, and henceforth wedded to it, making it 
whole ; 

Its arms not marking north and south and east and 
west. 

But pointing from back forward and from down up — 

Upward and onward ; J 

Setting up this quadrant to measure the heavens by, 

So far definite, but beyond still leaving the mystery. 

This was the sign-post of the wise, simple folk of old, 

The cross at the crossing where you and I are toil- 
ing. 

Will ours be truer or clearer ? 

Whither and whence? 
Henceforth I ask that question no more. 
The two processions still pass by, making the sign 
of the cross themselves for me. 

122 



Ring out, ye Bells 

They are the question and they are the answer. 

Here meet and unite spirit and matter, heaven and 
earth, God and man; 

Here if anywhere must I look for wisdom and good- 
ness, faith and love. 

Here, just where I stand, is the centre of all the 
worlds ; 

Here come together the great highways of the uni- 
verse. 

Do I ask, Whither and whence ? 
Nay, it is all hither and hence. 
This is the goal and the starting-point. 
Let the clouds rest upon the margins ; 
Whatever happens there, I am secure. 
My post is here and now. 



Ring out, ye Bells 



RING out, ye playful bells, — playful, yet serious 
bells,— 
For to-day is my wedding-day. 
Call in from the streets and lanes of the city, and 

from the highways and hedges, 
The poor and the maimed and the halt and the 
blind ; 

123 



Ring out, ye Bells 

All must be bidden and all must needs come, 
For the whole creation is my bride. 

II 

Ring out, ye bells ! 

I am in love with all — spirit and flesh, earth and sky, 

mountain and sea. 
That which is I, wedded to that which is not I, 

makes up the whole universe. 
I am as necessary to it as it is to me. 
Neither of us can spare the other ; 
We are suited to each other; we were made for 

each other ; 
No pair of twin indentures ever fitted so closely. 

Ill 

Ring out, ye bells ! 

We two were put asunder, but that we might be 
joined again. 

Along our common frontier is all the give and take, 
all the interchange and play of forces of the 
worlds. 

The thrill of the separation, the thrill of the re- 
union, this is life ; 

It will never cease again ; the new oneness will have 
gained a new life. 

Ring on, ye bells, — playful and serious bells, — 

Ring on now for ever. 

124 



Blossoms 



Blossoms 



WHEN in April the cherry trees spring into 
bloom, 
And the blossoms cluster thick like white butterflies 

on the bare branches, 
They all don their gay uniform together; not one 

lags behind. 
The same impulse at the same moment stirs the old 

trees in the garden, and the wild cherry trees 

in the woods across the road. 
The early birds and insects gather to them, and 

hail their fragrance with cheerful chirp and 

hum. 
A week later comes the time of the pear trees, and 

their Hie bursts forth simultaneously every- 
where. 
Our orchard displays its colours as at the word of 

command. 
On the far hillside we see other orchards aligned 

like battalions of infantry. 
The solitary pear tree by the door forgets not its 

duty, and signals back to the others. 
And now, while the pear blossoms fall, the apple 

trees bring up their reinforcements, and their 
125 



Blossoms 

blossoms break out in the midst of the young 

green leaves. 
The apple tree in the pear orchard has made no 

mistake ; it has bided its time, and now lets 

itself go with its brethren. 
What subtle, palpitating bond has drawn these trees 

together in sympathy ? 
Whence is the magnetic thrill to which each in its 

turn responds ? 



II 

The world of souls hath its seasons of bloom like- 
wise. 

Nay, one of them is even now upon us. 

Are you not conscious of the new love-blossom un- 
folding within you, 

The blossom of fellowship with man, of a wider, 
closer communion ? 

Look forth on distant lands, and see on every hand 
the same delicate flower here and there ap- 
pearing. 

We feel the same mystic bond ; we yield to the 
same inexplicable thrill. 

There have been other blooming times and other 
blossoms ; 

We rejoice that it was so, and have no quarrel with 
those who came before us. 
126 



The Great Joy 

But now at last it is our day ; we feel the sap within 
us, we mutually recognise the tint and the 
perfume, the joy of life and of reproduction is 
ours. 

We foresee that at the great harvest-home our rosy, 
mellow fruit will be gathered in in basketfuls 
with the rest. 



The Great Joy 



THERE is one joy which soars and hovers above 
all other joys, 
And your hands are not free to grasp it until you 

drop the lesser joys. 
Then at last you learn its secret, for lo ! it contains 

all the others and sums them up. 
Each individual joy is there ; not one is lacking. 

II 
Seek the great joy. 
To do it, let slip your wealth and your dreams of 

wealth. 
What miracle is this ? You have thus become the 

possessor of all the earth. 
And for the first time you can really enjoy your 
heritage. 

127 



The Great Joy 

You have risen above the region of exclusive riches, 
and now all things are yours. 



Ill 

Renounce your ability to command and to look 

down upon your fellows. 
Give up your schemes of political and social ambi- 
tion ; 
And behold, you find yourself at once near the 

source of all power, 
One of the elect few of all the ages. 
Sharing in the creative forces of the world. 
Your will in some way, to some extent, a part of the 
Divine will. 

IV 

Resign, if need be, the one most loved of all ; 
Waive your claims, assert no selfish prerogative ; 
And again on a higher plane your love embraces all. 
Now in the all you possess the loved one, who in 

turn through the all must now love you and 

delight in you. 
In that upper air there is no escape from you. 



Let your life and all its aims go ; 
Make it so cheap that you can quite disregard it. 

128 



Talium est enim Regnum Coeloruni 

And lo, once more you are lifted up to the centre of 

the universe ; 
The all-life, the life eternal, with all its treasures, 

becomes your own. 
You have lost your life, and you have found it. 
Yours at last is the great joy. 



Talium est enim 

Regnum Coelorum ^^# 



A HOT, dusty crowd has gathered in the railway 
station, and is elbowing its way through the 

funnel at the door while the porter punches 

the tickets. 
The hour-glass is filled with unruly, unnatural human 

sand, 
Dropping its anxious, questioning, uncomfortable 

grains one by one on the platform. 
But a little child joins the throng and is sucked 

into the vortex. 
A way is opened for him. 
Men and women whose faces showed a moment 

ago no trace of aught but the sharpening, 

narrowing struggle for existence, begin at last 

to smile. 
9 129 



Talium est enim Regnum Coelorum 

One strokes the little fellow's head, another play- 
fully pulls his ear, a third shows him where 
to present his ticket ; 

Even the busy doorkeeper finds time for a friendly 
wink. 

The travellers interchange glances, and are almost 
ashamed that their naked moral selves have 
been exposed to view. 

But it is too late ; the magic deed has been done. 

For an instant the boy has crystallised those repellent 
atoms of sand into a beautiful unity, 

And the little wizard has passed on, unconscious of 
his work. 

II 

Ah me, what goodness lies buried in every human 

soul, waiting for the enchanter's wand ! 
We were each of us wizards once. 
We were born such, and for a few brief years we 

went about turning hearts of stone into hearts 

of flesh. 
How did we lose the happy art? 
How did we sink so low as to need its ministrations 

for ourselves ? 
Can we not regain the subtle power? 
At least let us open our souls to its influence, and 

perchance it may revive a kindred force 

within us. 

130 



The Old, Old Quest 

What function is there nobler than the calling forth 

of what is best in others ? v--- 
What career grander than that which devotes us to 

such a mission ? 
What triumph more sublime than the opening 

flowers which greet each ray of the rising 

sun ? 



The Old, Old Quest '^ 



WHY are the people thronging up the steps of 
the grey cathedral ? What makes them 
so anxious, so eager, so impetuous ? 
It is the old, old quest. They are looking for life 

eternal. 
Who is that tall cloaked figure that treads stealthily 

behind them ? 
It is Death. See, they feel his presence, and they 
dare not turn their heads lest they should 
behold him. 

II 
The procession of priests is marching solemnly up 
the aisle. As they pass us, we note the hope- 
ful faces of those who are still young, and the 
stolid or despairing looks of the old men. 
131 



The Old, Old Quest 

How dim the light is ! We can hardly see 

that they have reached the chancel. 
What are they searching for now under the altar 

and behind the bishop's throne? 
It is the old, old quest. They are looking for life 

eternal. 
Who is that tall cloaked figure that treads stealthily 

behind them ? 
It is Death. See, they feel his presence, and they 

dare not turn their heads lest they should 

behold him. 



Ill 

The aged man is bending over a great book. He 
is alone in his study, and shelf on shelf of 
well-worn volumes rises behind him. 

He takes up his goose-quill. How fast he writes ! 
The floor is strewn with sheets of foolscap 
closely written, and now again he is fumbling 
over the yellow printed pages. 

He cannot find the text he is seeking. I 
wonder why he is thus straining his poor 
red eyes ? 

It is the old, old quest. He is looking for life 
eternal. 

But he is not alone. Who is that tall cloaked 
figure stooping over his shoulder ? 
132 



The New Creation 

It is Death. See, he feels his presence, and he dare 
not turn his head lest he should behold him. 

IV 

A sister of charity is dying on her straw pallet. 
She lovingly nursed back the life of the fever- 
stricken tramp, though she knew that she was 
drinking in the poison. 

Here is work for our old friend Death. Where is 
his tall cloaked figure? 

Ah, he is not here 1 and the sister smiles, for she 
knows that he cannot enter. 

How can she, in her agony, be happy? 

Do you not understand ? She holds the clue to the 
old, old quest, though she never sought it, 
for she feels throbbing in her innermost soul 
the forces of life eternal. 



The New Creation '^af 

THE world to-day is without form and void, and 
darkness is upon the face of the deep. 
But lo ! the Spirit of Love moveth upon the face of 

the waters of humanity. 
And we shall ere long see a new heaven and a new 

earth. 
And behold, it will be very good. 

133 



Good and Evil 



Good and Evil "^g 

GOOD without evil ? Oh, vain, vain dream ! 
Pleasure without pain, light without shadow, 
heaven without hell ? 

We cannot trifle thus with the eternal balances. 

We can only paint our paradise on the eternal back- 
ground. 

We cannot lift the earth without a resting-point for 
our lever. 

God Himself can but divide the light from the dark- 
ness. 

He can polarise the forces of life, but He cannot 
annihilate that without which life is impossible ; 

For even the Almighty hath His " must." 

But though we suffer let us rejoice in the eternal 
equilibrium, for it is ours. 



The Experiment iSsr 

THE book said, " Love others ; love them calmly, 
strongly, profoundly. 
And you will find your immortal soul." 
I leaned back in my arm-chair, letting my hand fall 
with the volume in my lap, 
134 



The White Soul 

And with closed eyes and half a smile on my face 
I made the experiment and tried to love. 

For the first time I really let my life go forth in love, 
and lo, the mighty current, welling up beneath 
and around me, lifted me, as it were bodily, 
out of time and space. 

I felt the eternal poise of my indestructible soul in 
the regions of life everlasting. 

Immortality was mine. 

The question which had so long baffled the creeds 
and the philosophers was answered. 



The White Soul ^«i» 

I SAW Innocence oppressed, and I pitied and 
loved her; 
And I looked upon my soul, and it was radiantly 

white, like unto the noonday sun. 
Then I was moved to seize the Oppressor and slay 

him ; 
And as I watched my soul it became red and angry 
and troubled, even as the setting sun in a 
stormy sky. 
And I grieved for its lost glory, and envied the state 
of those who might still possess it ; and I saw 
my soul that it became green like a sickly 
moon. 

135 



Everlasting Habitations 

So I lifted up my voice and prayed, and said, " O 

Lord, cast all these lurid and unhealthy 

passions out from my soul." 
And behold, there was a great darkness, and my soul 

hung, black as a pall, in the midst of it. 
Thereupon I wept bitterly, and cried, " O Lord, give 

me back the glory." 
And a voice answered and said, " Then thine must 

be the passions also." 
And I was carried away by love again, and once 

more I saw the white radiance of my soul ; 

and my eyes were opened, and I beheld in 

the blinding whiteness the rainbow of all the 

passions transfigured and absorbed in the 

magic flame of love. 
And the voice said, " See to it that no passion 

break forth again from its place in the perfect 

circle." 



Everlasting Habitations la^ 

YE unjust stewards with your unjust wealth. 
Keeping for yourselves the good things 
that were meant for all. 
Gladly let them slip through your fingers ; 
Give lovingly to him that asketh ; 
Make friends with the riches of unrighteousness ; 

136 



The Search 

And then, when ye are discharged from your post in 

this world, — 
When at last ye seem to die, — 
Then they, the poor, humble recipients of your 

bounty, 
Will receive you into everlasting habitations. 
In them will ye find eternal life. 



The Search lau 



N 



O one could tell me where my Soul might be. 
I searched for God but God eluded me. 
I sought my Brother out, and found all three. 



Sapphics 



YEARNING, oh, how drear is this endless 
yearning 
After glory, love, power, wealth, achievement ! 
Fools, we long each one for his sep'rate pleasure. 
Careless of others. 

Oft we fall and fail in our eager onset. 
If we grasp the fruit, in our hand it shrivels ; 

137 



Waiting 

Soon we heave a sigh, for our soul is sated, 
Sick at the surfeit. 

Ah, we thought these things in themselves were 

final, — 
Took them all to heart as the end of effort. 
Thus to make means ends is the old forbidden 
Worship of idols. 

No, not ends, — these boons that we faint and strive 

for, — 
Sign-posts rather, set to direct us onward ; 
Steps up which to climb to a height above, but 
Never to sit on ; 

Telescopes through which we may study heaven. 
Their transparent help for the time forgetting ; 
Doors that lead us on to the Universal, 
If we but open. 



Waiting iffii^ 

How long shall I be stifled in myself? 
I feel my kinship to the babe in the 
womb, blindly elbowing his way to light for 
his eyes and air for his lungs. 
The kernel in the seed too is my cousin, swelling 

138 



The Higher Trigonometry 

madly under the turf at the inspired suggestion 

of sunlight. 
I know likewise that there is a Sun somewhere. 
I strain and push, but perhaps I am straining and 

pushing in the wrong direction. 
I must wait in my tiny, outgrown cell. 
No one knows better than I do how narrow I am, 

but how can I be broad ? 
No one loves better than I do the wide, elemental 

men, but they are not to be imitated. 
I wait impatiently for the call to join them and be 

one of them. 



The Higher Trigonometry '^a^ 

WOULD you find God in the heavens ? Then 
you must learn the rules of the celestial 
trigonometry. 
You have been trying all these years to draw a line 
to Him from yourself alone, but no one can 
measure the sky with one point as a base. 
Get your other point first : find your brother ; lay 
down your base-line to him ; establish your 
angles from your mutual aspirations and 
affections, and you have the problem solved. 
V No man cometh unto the Father save by the Son of 
Man. 

139 



William Lloyd Garrison 
William Lloyd Garrison ia# 



IT is late in the evening. 
In a dingy attic room by the feeble light of 
a lamp a young workman of resolute and 
engaging countenance is setting up type for 
the first number of his journal. 

An old-fashioned hand-press stands behind him ; 
the floor is bespattered with printer's ink. 

The type is worn and second-hand ; the paper was 
bought on credit ; the rent is unpaid ; the 
youthful editor has neither money nor 
influence nor friends, nor as yet a single 
subscriber. 

At his elbow his supper awaits him — a loaf of bread 
and a glass of milk, the only food he can 
afford to buy. 

When he has finished his day's work, he will sleep 
there on the floor in the corner. 

The world outside is thinking of presidents and 
senates and elections. 

Lost on false trails, it recks not that in that humble 
chamber is being enacted much of the con- 
temporary history of mankind. 

It has still to learn that it must look in lowly 

mangers for the promise of the new day. 

140 



William Lloyd Garrison 



II 

The young printer smiles confidently as he goes on 

with his work. 
Here are the words which he is forming at the 

case : 
" The standard of emancipation is now unfurled. 
Let all the enemies of the persecuted blacks tremble. 
I will be as harsh as truth and as uncompromising as 

justice. 
I am in earnest. 
I will not equivocate ; 
I will not excuse ; 
I will not retreat a single inch ; 
And / will be heard. 

Posterity will bear testimony that I was right." 
For thirty long years he bears this standard aloft. 
Mobbed by the people, imprisoned by the State, cast 

out by the churches ; 
Dogged by kidnappers and assassins, a price set upon 

his head, despised, hated, and reviled ; 
The wealth, learning, and religion of the land especi- 
ally bitter against him ; 
He presses forward unmoved. 
Scorning all compromise, deaf to every suggestion 

in extenuation, he lifts his voice like thunder 

above all other sounds, 
Blasting for ever the man-stealer and his abettors. 

141 



William Lloyd Garrison 

And at last, as he foresaw from the first, in loneli- 
ness and want — victory, complete victory, is 
his. 



Ill 

In Garrison the truth conquered, the simple truth, 
that " man cannot own his fellow." 

There is another truth as simple waiting for its 
sponsor, the truth that " the land belongs to 
all." 

Where is the man who will replace the fallen 
champion of the landless ? 

Where is the hero with hands clean of complicity, 
with unbridled tongue, with withering con- 
tempt for all excuses, ready for a generation, 
if need be, to lead on, through good and evil 
report, through persecution and even unto 
death, against the land-lords as Garrison did 
against the man-lords ? 

The times call out for such an one. 

We, temporisers of all shades, shall recognise in him 
our superior when he comes ; 

To his standard we must unfalteringly rally. 

Till then, no one need be fearful for his unearned 
gains, though the world starve. 



142 



Choir Practice 



Choir Practice "^a^ 

As I sit on a log here in the woods among 
the clean-faced beeches, 
The trunks of the trees seem to me like the pipes 

of a mighty organ, 
Thrilling my soul with wave on wave of the 

harmonies of the universal anthem — 
The grand, divine, aeonic " I am " chorus. 
The red squirrel scolding in yonder hickory tree. 
The flock of blackbirds chattering in council over- 
head, 
The monotonous crickets in the unseen meadow, 
Even the silent ants travelling their narrow highway 

with enormous burdens at my feet — 
All, like choristers, sing in the green-arched cathedral 
The heaven-prompted mystery, " I am, I am." 
The rays of sunshine shoot down through the 

branches and touch the delicate ferns and the 

blades of coarse grass piercing up through 

last year's dead leaves. 
And all cry out together, " I am." 
We used to call upon all these works of the Lord to 

praise the Lord, and they did praise Him ; 
But now they praise no longer, for they have been 

taught a new song, and with one accord they 

chant the " I am." 

H3 



The Master 

I too would learn the new music, and I begin 
hesitatingly to take part in the world-wide 
choir practice. 

After all these quiet private rehearsals, 

At last in my own place you may look for me also 
in the final, vast, eternal chorus. 

And we, all of us, as you see us, are but mouth- 
pieces. 

Who is it that behind and beneath sings ever through 
us, now whispering, now thundering, " I am"? 



The Master 



THERE are times when I could thank God for 
the healthy paganism in the gospel. 
It is only in that current of native vigour that our 

Christian virtues can ride supreme. 
Does the Master walk in peace ? He does it on a 

threatening, boisterous sea. 
I like to see Him confounding the money-brokers 

with a glance as He upsets their tables, or else 

thundering at the respectable church people, 

or answering the Jewish archbishop with 

magnificent disdain. 
All that was in Him. 
When He said, " Suffer little children to come unto 

Me," all that was in Him. 
144 



At the Solicitor's 

When the beloved disciple lay with his head upon 
His breast, all that was in Him. 

In the agony of the cross, while His weight bore 
down upon the burning nails, and He 
cried, " Father, forgive them," all that was 
in Him. 

He was the Son of God, and called upon us to be 
sons of God — 

Sons of the God of the tempest as well as the God 
of the calm. 

The storm was in Him. 

The passionate strength was in Him. 

But, above all, on the very thunder-cloud. He wrote, 
" Peace, be still." 

On any other parchment — in the mouths of blood- 
less saints and philosophers — those culminat- 
ing words lose all their force. 

We need life, and we need it more abundantly. 



At the Solicitor's 



A FAIR young girl, 
Made by nature for the true life of woods 
and fields. 
Or, if detained indoors. 
Meant to form an incomparable picture, 
lo 145 



At the Solicitor's 

Standing with cheeks aglow and fresh apron before 

the kitchen fire, 
Or singing as she sits at her needlework — 

Such she was ; but I sighed as I saw her in her 
lawyer's office, 

Going over the accounts of her estate, 

Discussing bonds and mortgages and other invest- 
ments. 

Drawing cheques and signing receipts. 

I wonder if she noticed my profound disgust ? 

Was I the only one there with eyes open to the 
monstrosity of it all? 

Did I alone perceive, in this unthinking maiden, 
womanhood profaned and humanity blas- 
phemed ? 

Could no one else detect on that bright face the 
appalling taint ot property? 

I saw it indeed, and was shocked — 

I, who can still behold unmoved those of my own 

sex engaged in such degrading business ; 
But the angels of heaven, who know full well what 

a human soul should be, can they look upon 

any of us without tears ? 



46 



All Ye that Labour 



All Ye that Labour lAg 



"A-- 



L ye that labour, come to Me," 
The Galilean Workman cried ; 
" Alone ye never can be free, 
But, heavy laden though ye be, 

The yoke seems nothing at My side. 

" Love one another ; do not stand 
Forgetful of each other's woe ; 

Together seek the promised land ; 

Whate'er befall, clasp hand in hand, 
And hold no brother for a foe. 

" Together lay your treasure by, 

And not in hoards of foolish gold ; 
But rather pile your riches high. 
Of brother-love that cannot die. 

And peace and mutual good untold. 

" Behold the lilies of the plain 

And all the birds that skim the air; 
They have no barns to store the grain, 
But, scorning ownership and gain. 
They take their fill without a care. 

" And so the day might pass for you 
Without a single anxious thought, 
147 



The Workers to the Landlords 

If each of you were only true 
To all the rest, and strove to do 
The nearest service as he ought. 

" Then, ever shining, like the sun. 

On them that love and them that hate, 
Forgiving, loving everyone, 
Soon would ye see My reign begun, 
My kingdom that ye must create. 

" Come unto Me for rest and ease ; 

And where to find Me, would ye ask ? 
Close by you is the arm that frees ; 
Come, find Me in the least of these 
My brethren, toiling at his task." 



The Workers to the Land lords la^ 

OYE who say ye own the land. 
Where is the grant that blessed you thus ? 
Who gave you mountain, plain, and strand ? 
The God that made the land made us. 

He made us, and we till His soil ; 

We work His mines and fell His trees ; 
In stone and iron and wood we toil. 

Your titles, are they more than these ? 
148 



The Workers to the Landlords 

We earn our bread with sweating brow ; 

Ev'n as He bade us, so we do. 
Pray tell us, then, ye idlers, how 

He chanced to give the land to you. 

We nestle close to Mother Earth — 
That mother whom ye hardly know; 

If there be differing rights of birth, 
The higher rights are ours to show. 

^ Ye own the land ? Then why not claim 
The air and sky and ocean broad ? 
Fill out the patents in your name ; 

Your courts will soon condone the fraud. ^'"" 

The world is yours ? This globe that steers 
Through heaven her swift, mysterious way, 

Shining among her sister spheres. 
In fact belongs to you, you say ? 

Oh, boast insane ! And if ye dare 
Evict us from earth's ample face, 

Perhaps we'll find who holds out there 
The deeds to interstellar space. 

And we may meet the owners, too, 
Of all the planets, great and small, 

And trespassing on each anew, 
Descry no place for us at all. 
149 



The Workers to the Landlords 

Nay, in the heaven ye deign to hold, 
To quiet us, before our eyes, 

Who knows but ye'll have bought and sold 
The fields and glades of paradise ? 

Fools, blush at this your mad pretence, 
To own God's everlasting land ! 

'Tis no more yours than ours, for hence 
We draw our food, and here we stand. 

The self-same path that brought you here, 
/ That path by our feet too was worn. 
/ Our right to live on earth is clear ; 

Our right is this, that we were born. / 

Learn from the birds. And do they pay 
Each other rent for oak and beech ? 

The fish that swim in creek and bay 
Have a free nook to spawn for each. 

And only we, the sons of men, 
Without a resting-place are left ; 

While fowl and fox have nest and den. 
The rent ye take from us is theft. 

The poor man's wife has not a spot 

Where she may bear her firstborn son ; 

Nor has he where to build his cot. 
Or lay his bones when life is done. 
1^0 



New York at 99° in the Shade 

A foothold here we now demand. 

The right to space we will not buy. 
Do you repeat, " We own the land " ? 

Before Almighty God, you lie ! 



New York at 99° in the Shade 



WALK with me down through the furnace-like 
street ; 
Feel the hot paving-stones under your feet ; 
Breathe the dead air ; smell the vile human smells ; 
Don't lag behind though your stomach rebels. 
Now it is night, and the sun has long set ; 
Still how his rays seem to blister us yet. 
Elbow your way through the sweltering mass. 
Moist, pallid faces are turned as we pass. 
Some are of men who have toiled all the day. 
Children are screaming in dirt as they play ; 
Woe-begone women, with babes at the breast. 
Sit in the doorways unkempt and half dressed. 
All talk at once; the night passes in din. 
Soon will the work of a new day begin. 
Ah, 'tis enough to make angels despair ; 
This is the thing they call taking the air ! 
Enter this hallway ; climb five flights of stairs ; 
Visit the dens where the poor have their lairs, — 

151 



New York at gg"" in the Shade 

Kitchen and bedroom and parlour in one, 
Cooking the Hfe that was left by the sun, — 
Windowless cupboards where men try to sleep, 
Heedless of roaches and bugs as they creep. 
Some burn with fever, and here they must die, 
Crowded like litters of pigs in a sty. 
One narrow house, rising floor above floor. 
Holds a full hundred of mortals and more. 
Up on a roof see a score or two lie. 
Seeking for slumber beneath the dull sky. 
Let us be proud of the city we've made. 
After a day ninety-nine in the shade. 

As I look up at the stars, lo, behold ! 
Comes to my ear, as to shepherds of old. 
Strains as it were from a heavenly choir, 
Singing, " O brothers who toil, never tire ! 
^ Justice will come if you look for it higher.' V 

II 

Follow me now to the streets near the Park. 
Palace and mansion loom up in the dark. 
Windows are closed ; all the people have fled. 
Surely this seems like a town of the dead. 
Gone to the mountains or gone to the sea. 
Travelling in Europe for two months or three ; 
Here they have left in the heat and the gloom 
Houses as empty of life as the tomb. 

152 



New York at gcf in the Shade 

Come, I've a latch-key, let's go in and roam 
Ghost-like through halls of what once was a home. 
Look at the tables and pictures, and all 
Covered each one like a corpse with its pall. 
Beds of the softest invitingly stand, 
Luxury wickedly cumbering the land. 
Here, were the waifs of the slums to repose. 
Soon they'd forget all their trials and woes. 
Think what a blessing, — I say it with wrath, — 
Could they but dip in this porcelain-lined bath. 
/ Miles upon miles of such houses stretch forth. 
Bolted and barred, from the south to the north. 
Children may perish like flies in the heat, 
How could we let them pollute a fine street ? 
Let us be proud of the city we've made, 
After a day ninety-nine in the shade. ^ 

Down on the curb again, what do I hear? 
Up from the sewer comes a song harsh and 

clear ; 
List to the words of the devil's own choir, 
" Sodom, Gomorrah, with Sidon dnd Tyre, 
Wait for New York in the depths of hell-fire." 



153 



Song of the New Freedom 
Song of the New Freedom 

(Tune, " Ein' Feste Burg.") 



AMERICANS, ye once were free. 
Your country led the nations' van. 
Proclaiming new-born liberty, 
The lost self-sovereignty of man. 
All Europe then was glad 
To follow in your train. 
The glory that ye had 
Would ye once more regain ? 
Then know, ye trust your arms in vain. 

In vain ye build your battle-ships. 
In vain ye fortify the coast; 
Still many an armament outstrips 
The devilish frenzy of your boast. 

Think not to lead by force. 

Ever have men relied 

In vain on such a course. 

Be free and far and wide. 
The world will rally to your side. 

Be free. Ye brag of freedom yet ; 
But do ye not, while glorying, feel 
154 



Song of the New Freedom 

The tightening bonds ? Can ye forget 
The fetters dragging at your heel ? 

Each battle Freedom wins 

Transforms her foe of old. 

Another strife begins ; 

A tyrant new behold — 
The sullen, swinish god of gold. 

Arise and strike the usurper down — 
The basest of the despot brood. 
Come, trample on his vulgar crown, 
And let him welter in his blood. 

Where is he, do ye ask ? 

Look not in street or mart. 

Within you find your task ; 

He lords it in your heart. 
There let the desperate conflict start. 

Your heart is ruled by love of pelf; 
Your land is ruled by pelf amassed. 
Cast down the former ; free yourself, 
And soon you'll bind the latter fast. 

Hark to our country's call. 

And let us all unite ; 

The tyrant soon will fall. 

Yea, as our cause is right. 
Freedom again shall gain the fight ! 



155 



A Good Job for the Flag 



A Good Job for the Flag lau 

SEE the old flag over the village school. 
What a fine idee ter h'ist him there. 
He looks so big and calm and cool, 
That somehow it clears the air. 

He's a-watchin' the girls and boys, 
As they squint at paper and pen ; 
Ur enjoyin' the playground's noise — 
The ball and the bat, 
Ur whatever they're at, 
And the makin' o' women and men. 
I'd like ter bet that his hours don't drag. 
Now that's what I call a good job fur a flag. 

He's kinder reformed, as it seems ter me. 
Fur he wunst was a rayther tough old case. 
Bad company did it, as you might see, 
When he loafed about the place, 

Hobnobbin' with bay'nets and guns, 
And pistols and swords and the like ; 
Turnin' the heads of our sons, 
Makin' 'em spile. 
Both the rank and the file. 
Fur a chance to shoot and strike, 
Swellin' their noddles with bluster and brag. 
Now that's what I call a mean job fur a flag. 
156 



Hereafter in Far Distant Years 

The stars in the blue were fur pride, I said ; — 
You jest should 'a' seen them young ones' 

airs ; 
And bloodshed was meant by the stripes of 

red — 
They'd have liked to kill if they dared. 

But we've changed all that right here. 
Stars of innocence speck the blue. 
If the red means blood, it's clear 
It's the blood that it oughter, 
That's thicker than water, 
Of brothers and sisters true. 
Three cheers fur the law that made him wag 
Way over the children, the good old flag. 



Hereafter in Far Distant Years 



HEREAFTER, in far distant years. 
If this book, by some chance surviving, fall 
into the hands of curious readers. 
They will smile perplexed, and say : 
" How strange that even in those barbarous times 
It seemed worth while to write these simple, self- 
evident truths. 
And solemnly to set forth such wisdom as now our 
babes are born with ! 



Somewhere 

Surely there never was an age when things so 
elementary were honestly gainsaid. 

Oh, the mystery of eyes that see net and ears that 
hear not ! " 



Somewhere 



I'M sure that somewhere, I know not when, 
I lived very far from the haunts of men ; 
For still as a child. 
There was something wild 
That thrilled my heart every now and then. 

I'm sure that at sometime, I know not where, 
I used to float, float, float through the air ; 

Because, when I dream, 

I so often seem 
To be soaring demurely and safe up there. 



Death 



H 



AIL, cleansing, purifying Death ! 

I see you as a pretty red-cheeked housemaid, 
with neat white cap and trim apron, 

158 



Death 

Cheerily singing at your work, as you dust and clean 

and scrub the good old house of Life ; 
Sweeping together the rubbish, and quietly putting it 

out at the door. 
Where it will find new surroundings, and be no 

longer filth. 
What could we do without you, poor, dirt-excreting, 

disease-breeding mortals that we are ? 
What would become of us if we did not at last fall 

under your grateful ministrations ? 
And who can tell how often we may have need of 

them? 

II 

I wait for you, dear sister, confidently, fearlessly ; 
I seem to recognise you. 

I am half persuaded that I have met you before. 
When you come toward me with your pail and soap 

and water, may your song be of the merriest. 
I will not turn away from you. 
You will lay hold of me firmly, but tenderly too, 1 

am sure. 
Who knows ? Perhaps you may even kiss me on 

the forehead. 

Ill 

And in the hereafter how shall we look back at you, 
sister ? 

159 



In the Breakers 

Will it not be as at a kindly, bustling, gossipy mid- 
wife, 

Who ushered us into life, and was proud of our 
weight, and gave us our first bath, and put 
on the new clothes that were waiting for 
us ? 



In the Breakers lau 



WHAT grand sport it is to dive under the 
breakers, 

Measuring your lithe buoyancy against their im- 
petuous strength, 

The gravitation that sinks the stone bearing you up, 
as you plunge through the solid green mass, 
following the sandy bottom just too long ; 

Striking out upward madly in search of breath ; 

Shooting like a rocket into the midst of the surging, 
struggling billows ; 

Abandoning yourself to them like the seaweed, 
beaten hither and thither, your head turning 
in a boiling caldron, the water roaring in your 
ears, the salt in your eyes ; 

At last bursting forth into the swelling stillness 
beyond the line of foam ; 
1 60 



In the Breakers 

Basking idly on your back in the sun, looking 
sleepily, as you rock in your cradle, at the 
immense, unfathomable blue ; 

Lulled by the thundering cadence on the shore, now 
so far, far away. 

II 

But while you were there under the seething surf, 
What if you had forgotten the fresh air overhead 
and had made no effort to reach it, thinking 
that where you were there you ought to 
remain, and taking the salt water and the 
breathlessness as the necessary stuff of life ? 
What would have become of your sport then, and 
how soon would your dead body have been 
swept out to the hungry sharks ? 

Ill 

In the world too we are often likewise submerged. 
Over our heads the troubled waves of anxiety close, 

and we hardly remember that the sun is still 

shining. 
Distracted with cares, drawn this way and that by 

desires, caught in a whirl of toil or business 

or pleasure or metaphysics ; 
Forcing ourselves to believe that we are in our true 

element ; 
II i6i 



The Living Answer 

Weighing ourselves down till we no longer feel our 

native buoyancy ; 
Gasping for air, and thinking to find it under our 

feet, — 
Ah, this is no sport. 
Life is only a noble exercise so long as we bear in 

mind the sun and sky above us, and know 

enough to come up to the surface from time 

to time for breath. 
Remember that, and the direst forces of nature 

become our friends and playthings. 
Only remember, and what sport it is to be alive ! 



The Living Answer la^ 

WHERE is the answer to all the contradic- 
tions ?— 
The fact that things must happen as they do, 
And my easy choice to do as I like ? — 
The lavish waste and destruction of nature, 
And the infinite wisdom in which I seem to share ? — 
The fierce struggle for life. 

And the peace which passeth all understanding ? — 
The pain and misery of man and beast, 
And the almighty love whose rays I feel ? — 
Death everywhere, and yet life eternal somehow 

162 



The Living Answer 

swelling into all the nooks and corners with- 
out driving it out ? — 

Good ruling over evil triumphant ? 

Where is the answer ? 

Every age has its futile philosopher with his scheme, 

explaining one side perhaps but blind to the 

other. 
Every age buries the philosophy of its predecessor, 

until now the churchyard is full of dead 

answers. 
There is but one living answer. 
I am that answer ; — 

I, with my free will bound up in destiny ; 
I, with my prodigality and thrift ; 
I, so stormy on the surface and yet with unsounded 

depths of calm beneath ; 
I, with my sorrow and joy, my love and hate, my 

sympathy and my cruelty ; 
I, going down to death and yet for ever living; 
I, with right and wrong fighting their endless duel 

within me. 
In me the contradictions are reconciled. 
Yes ; I, who transcend all philosophies, who refuse to 

be imprisoned by theories and systems, who 

elude all logic, and have no bounds but 

Eternity. 
I am the answer. 

163 



Rabboni ut Videamus 



Rabboni ut Videamus 



OPEN our eyes, O Lord, 
Who wander in the night. 
One blessing to Thy Church accord — 
That it receive its sight. 

Show us the world we make — 
This world of crime and pain ; 

Show us the want from which we take 
Our fill of cruel gain. 

Show us the clear effect 

Of every thought and deed ; 
Make it so easy to detect, 

That he that runs may read. 

Like us, our fathers groped ; 

Their eyes were holden too ; 
While they adored and prayed and hoped. 

They lived as tyrants do. 

They could not see the slave 

Oppressed and scourged and bound ; 

They could not see the look he gave 
For help he never found. 
164 



Mother Nature 

Nor did their eyes behold 

The horror of their laws, 
Which hanged and burned both young and old 

For every trivial cause. 

And they who were the first 

To point them out their sin, 
Were mobbed, imprisoned, hated, cursed, 

And killed by kith and kin. 

/ O Lord, vouchsafe Thy grace. 
That when again Thou send 
A messenger before Thy face, 
We greet him as a friend. 

And may we with him dare 

To choose the eternal right ; 
But grant us first our fervent prayer — 

That we receive our sight ! , 



Mother Nature 



DEAR Mother Nature, let us be reconciled ! 
How long it is since we were on speaking 
terms ! 
I have been sulking, and I thought you were sulking 
too. 

165 



The Vision of the Pioneers 

I wanted you to come and make up, but I see that I 

was in the wrong, and that I must take the 

first step. 
I beHeved all the stories that I heard about you, and, 

to tell the truth, I looked upon you as a rather 

questionable character. 
In vain I tried to compass your exuberance with my 

yard-stick. 
Your prodigality and indecency and recklessness 

shocked me beyond measure. 
How could I afford to be seen in such company ? 

But I perceive more clearly now. 

There, I have broken my yard-stick across my knee, 

and thrown away the pieces. 
It will never come between us again. 
I know now that you are just what you ought to be, 

and I would not have you other than you are. 
Forgive me. Mother, and take me back to your 

bosom ! 



The Vision of the Pioneers la^ 

I SAW the Angel of the New Truth with the 
infant Time that is to be in her arms. 
Oh, how the great pioneers had to struggle before 
they gained the point of vantage whence they 
could see that vision, 
i66 



The Bonds of Freedom 

For weary years pushing though the darksome forest, 
their minds haunted with the memory of the 
radiant hem of her garment, of which erewhile 
they had caught a vanishing gHmpse. 

And I, following afar off, had my adventures too ; 

The thickets still were full of brambles, and the wild 
beasts had not yet ceased to prowl. 

But soon the path will be well trodden down, and a 
broad highway will at last be opened for the 
onward pressing peoples. 

When the babe is weaned, the angel will return to 
heaven. 

Forget the pioneers, if you will. 

What matters it ? They have had their reward, for 
they saw the vision at its brightest. 



The Bonds of Freedom ''«r 



T^REEDOM, dear tyrant, how little I understood 



A you! 
Did I expect to have a rollicking, easy life with 

you ? 
Ah, it is only irresponsible slaves that can live thus. 
Your path is narrow and steep, and now a necessity 

tenfold heavier than before impels me onward. 
No longer may I look to the right hand nor to the 

left. 

167 



The Kingdom of God 

I see the illusion of my free will, and the folly of 
praying, " My will be done." 

And yet, while I behold that patch of blue sky above 
me, and feel the wind of heaven blowing down 
the mountain pass, even though all mankind 
spread themselves over the plains beneath the 
clouds with their faces to the ground, I know 
that I and such as I alone are free. 



The Kingdom of God ^«f 

WHAT is the kingdom of God? 
Is it a far-away singing of psalms and 
harping of harps ? 
Or a new order here on earth introduced by act of 
the legislature, and enforced by Courts and 
policemen ? 
Or a mad revel of licence, with each man's desire a 
law unto itself? 

Nay, the kingdom of God is that social life which 
expresses man's realisation of the divine con- 
sciousness within him. 

In this consciousness behold the Christ come down 
to save the world, — 

God manifest in the flesh, and for ever persecuted 
and crucified, 

1 68 



Dear Old Eng-land 

Descending with His life-line to the lowest depths 

of creation, 
And rising at last again to the throne, having drawn 

all things unto Himself. 
This is the eternal fact of the creeds, the drama of 

history, the kingdom of God. 



Dear Old England '^if 

DEAR old England, how I hate 
All the things that make you great ! 
Still I cannot but declare 
My love for all that keeps you fair. 

Fve no patience with the steam, 
That makes your factory-whistles scream ; 
With your machines and with your coal, 
Blackening body, mind, and soul. 

Neither can I stand the slums 
Whence your starving workman comes, 
And where, beneath a smoky pall, 
He rarely sees the sun at all. 

Think you Englishmen were made 
To be sacrificed to Trade ? 
More romantic butcheries 
Were the Druids' 'neath the trees. 
169 



Dear Old England 

On these sights I turn my back. 
Lo, fields of green, not towns of black ; 
Skies of blue, not clouds of smoke ; 
And stalwart, red-cheeked village folk. 

There the cottage, calm and still, 
Nestles down beside the hill, 
And lane and hedge and ancient beech 
Seem just created each for each. 

See the dairymaid await 
Her lover at the garden gate, 
While an apocalypse of green 
Transfigures all the tidy scene. 

Wherefore flee from fields and downs. 
Crowding into ugly towns ? 
Wherefore plough the distant main? 
What, have you sold your souls to Gain ? 

'Tis a low, ignoble quest. 
Seeking markets east and west ! 
Better that your flag were furled. 
Than forcing gimcracks on the world. 

Stop your melancholy wars, 
Wherein you win no glorious scars. 
Learn at last, if you are able, 
That Profit is unprofitable. 
170 



Dear Old England 

Call back home your wandering sons 
With their Testaments and guns. 
Whither are their footsteps bent ? 
Here they might have found content 

Here they have at their own price 
The making of a paradise. 
Nowhere will they find a stage 
So fitted for the Golden Age. 

You've spread your empire out too thin 
With greed and violence and sin ; 
Now let a stabler reign commence, 
Deeper, more lofty, more intense. 

Search for justice, not for gold. 
Boundless wealth your islands hold. 
Silver's but a doubtful good. 
Come, work the mines of brotherhood. 

Then at last — but who can tell 
Such miracles as ne'er befell ? — 
Then England will be great indeed, 
And all the world will cry, " God-speed." 

^ Dear old England, how I hate 
The things that now have made you great ! 
Still I love you, for I see 
Your greatness that is bound to be. • 
171 



America Libera 



\/ America Libera '«# 

QUOTH America : 
" Would you confine me, with my 
vigorous, exuberant life, in your 
constitutions and statutes ? 

Little do you know me. 

No sooner have your masons finished my prison- 
house, than I walk out at the door. 

Though the lodging suit me to-day, I shall need 
wider scope to-morrow. 

Tinker at it as you will ; patch it and piece it out 
from dawn till eventide ; you are working at 
an empty shell ; I have already escaped and 
eluded you. 

While you plod along at the old edifice, I am filling 
my lungs out of doors. 

None of your tailors can make me raiment which I 
shall not outgrow in a fortnight. 

While I slept, you might fasten your Lilliputian 
threads around me, but when I rise I do not 
even hear them when they snap asunder. 

All your handicraftsmen cannot keep up with my 
life. 

I am alive and growing apace, and you treat me as 
if I were dead. 

172 



The Lighthouse 

If your contrivances should fit me now like a 

tortoiseshell, I should still shed them at the 

end of the year. 
Only in my coffin shall I rest quietly, like another 

China or Turkey, and accept passively your 

well-meant attentions. 
Meanwhile unhand me, ye mummy-makers, for I 

am alive." 



The Li§:hthouse 



IT is a glorious day at sea. 
Our steamer is plunging proudly through the 
waves like a happy monster. 

The porpoises playing round her nose do not make 
our mistake of taking her for a mere lifeless 
thing. 

They recognise a fellow-creature, and tease her as 
fox-terrier puppies tease a mastiff; but she 
shakes them off and ploughs ahead. 

Our group on the port-bow, however, and all the 
other groups gazing over the port-rail, have 
minds fixed on something else than the ship. 

For a week or more our thoughts have been im- 
prisoned in the little world of the ship's 
173 



The Lighthouse 



company, with its narrow interests and small- 
talk. 

Our miniature community shaped itself for a time 
with the natural inevitableness of chemical 
affinity, but now that has all passed away. 

A suggestion, a new idea, has hopelessly disturbed 
the molecules, and they are already on the 
lookout for more powerful forces and a more 
comprehensive arrangement. 

The man at the mast-head has sighted the Lizard 
light, and we are straining our eyes to obtain 
a glimpse of it. 

The starboard deck is quite deserted, but on this 
side all is wide awake, as if our leviathan 
were swimming with one eye open. 

We stare impatiently until our eyes ache, but 
nothing is visible except the green sea and 
the sunny, wind-driven foam, and behind, the 
endless sweep of the clear sky. 

That unseen lighthouse has, without our knowing it, 
changed all our relations to each other, and 
we are unconsciously adjusting ourselves to 
new centres. 

The doom of our tiny social system of a week, with 
its hierarchy and traditions, has been irre- 
vocably pronounced. 

At last a sharp-eyed boy cries out, " There it is ! " and 
with varying degrees of truth we chime in. 
174 



The Lighthouse 

But is it really the lighthouse, or the white edge of 
a cloud lit up by the declining sun, or an 
illusion of our sight ? 

Now, just before sunset, all doubt ceases, for the 
white elusive speck has given place to a star, 
come down to do sentinel duty for us all 
night on the distant coast. 

We go below to dinner, but we are no longer the 
same men and women that breakfasted 
together, and we are half aware that we 
have grown. 

II 

God bless the lighthouses of life — the men whose 
feet are on the rock, and who stand as pillars 
of cloud by day and pillars of fire by night, to 
mark our course to the promised land. 

Who would not be such a lighthouse ? 

Ah, that ambition I have never altogether scotched. 

The others died hard, but they died, and as I was 
congratulating myself that I was cured of 
castle-building for good and all, this new ideal 
rose up from the ashes of the rest mightier 
than any of them. 

In vain I admonish my soul, and say, " Live now, 
in the present, for sufficient unto the day is 
the good thereof, and the morrow will take 
thought of the things of itself." 
175 



Love's Blindness 

It is of no use ; the fight within me is still on, 
and I still long to serve as the Lizard light, 
drawing other voyagers on the eternal ocean 
from their petty, ephemeral worlds. 



^Love's Blindness la^ 



I 



LOVE is blind ? Oh, miraculous blindness, 
Whose insight is touched from above 
With the zest of divine loving-kindness ! 
He sees best who is deepest in love. 



Competition 



Do you fear competition ? 
Fear it not, for it is Nature's way, and it 
is foolish to think that we know a better. 
What is competition but the triumph of the 

mightiest ? 
If God is almighty, of whom shall we be afraid ? 
If love is the greatest of all forces, who can presume 
to stand against us ? 

The quiet-burning sun Ufts up the waters and pours 
them over Niagara ; 
176 



High Mass 

He calls forth the winds and marshals the thunder- 
clouds ; 

At his bidding the cyclone cuts a swathe through 
the forest, and the tornado lashes the sea to 
frenzy. 

When the sun is submerged in the cataract, — 

When he is blown hither and thither by the 
tempest, — 

Then, and not till then, fear competition. 



High Mass 

THE brocaded and velveted priest raises the 
host in the sight of the congregation. 
The silver bell tinkles, and the people, kneeling on 
their handkerchiefs upon the paved floor, 
cross themselves and worship. 
And I, who have long since done with temples and 
proceeded onward, I, too, worship with them. 
I am as sure that God is there as they are. 

As I kneel, the scene changes. 

It is the Israelltish High Priest in his white linen 

garments who now stands at the altar. 
He passes within the veil, swinging a smoking 

censer, and the air is full of the smell of 

incense. 

12 177 



High Mass 

We are all waiting in the outer court, and we 
tremble as we see the fiery Shekinah through 
his eyes. 

I see it as plainly as if it burned before me. 



The smoke from the censer hides everything, and 

again there is a change of scene. 
We are in an Egyptian temple. 
The fruits of the earth have been laid symmetrically 

upon the altar. 
The priest with outstretched arms is offering them 

to Osiris. 
On each side stiff, impassive Egyptians in like 

manner hold forth their upturned hands. 
I join with the crowd in weeping for Osiris slain 

and in rejoicing for him risen again. 

The people are rising from their knees, and we are 

in church once more. 
I am not out of place here, for I am more catholic 

than any of them. 
I can adore with Jew and Mohammedan and 

Pagan. 
My religion shuts out none of the faithful in any 

age or any clime. 
There are many roads to God, for He is latent 

everywhere. 

178 



Magnets 

Upon whatever point the faith of men converges 

and focuses itself, there the divine spark 

flames up. 
They that seek it find it, and where two or three 

are gathered together in its name, there it is 

in the midst of them. 



Mairnets 



Two chubby, curly-headed children, brother 
and sister, are sitting on the floor, on each 

side of a basin of water. 
They are bending over it intently, as they amuse 

themselves by drawing tiny tin boats about 

their miniature sea with a pair of magnets. 
They never tire of watching the sensitive bowsprits, 

which yield themselves like the antennae of 

insects to the unseen power. 
The boy, by some awkward motion, upsets one of 

the little vessels ; 
His sister looks up, their eyes meet, and they both 

burst into merry laughter. 
Then the girl impulsively throws her arms about 

his neck and kisses him, at imminent peril of 

a plunge in the deep and the annihilation of 

the entire fleet. 

179 



Magnets 

What infinite, mysterious forces the divine Httle 
animals are thoughtlessly playing with, as 
they attract the boats with their magic wands, 
and draw each other kiss-wards with their 
eyes ! 

Are these two forces distinct, or do they not rather 
merge into one? 

I shall not presume to separate them — I, who feel 
my heart tremble within me like the needle 
in the compass, often shaken out of place 
and pointing wrong, but ever quivering back 
again, moved by some great, unknown, un- 
thinkable influence. 

On the boisterous sea, with the horizon broken and 
the stars themselves ever passing in proces- 
sion, there is nothing so stable as the rest- 
less needle and the restless soul. 

Yes, they are akin each to each, and swayed by 
kindred powers ; 

And it is one and the same game that the children 
are playing together. 



t8o 



The Reformer 



The Reformer "^^ 

THE Reformer stood in the market-place with 
his arms folded. 
He smiled on the angry mob surging round him, 

because he knew that he bore that within 

him which they could not kill. 
The Angel of Truth sat secure in his heart, and 

feared not, for she felt that her fortress was 

impregnable. 
Let them torture and mutilate and murder, her, at 

least, they could not touch. 

One taunt too bitter, one cry too shrill pierced the 

ear of the hunted man. 
He frowned and clenched his fist. 
A shadow passed over his soul, and the angel 

turned deathly pale. 
Then he lifted his arm and struck his nearest 

assailant full in the face, and the angel flew 

slowly from her tottering stronghold up to 

heaven. 
That night the world was poorer and emptier, but 

the Angel of Truth still bides her time. 



i8i 



The State 
The State ^«^ 



THEY talked much of the State — the State. 
I had never seen the State, and I asked 
them to picture it to me, as my gross mind 
could not follow their subtle language when 
they spake of it. 
Then they told me to think of it as of a beautiful 
goddess, enthroned and sceptred, benignly 
caring for her children. 
But for some reason I was not satisfied. 

And once upon a time, as I was lying awake at 
night and thinking, I had as it were a 
vision. 

And I seemed to see a barren ridge of sand beneath 
a lurid sky ; 

And lo, against the sky stood out in bold relief a 
black scaffold and gallows-tree, and from the 
end of its gaunt arm hung, limp and motion- 
less, a shadowy, empty noose. 

And a Voice whispered in my ear, " Behold the 
State incarnate ! " 

And as I looked aghast, the desert became thickly 
peopled, and all the countless throng did 
obeisance to the gibbet ; 
182 



The State 

And they that were clad in rich raiment bowed 
down the lowest of all. 



II 

The Sheriff is reading his warrant to the condemned 

man in his cell. 
He stammers and hesitates, and his voice is husky. 
The executioner takes off his victim's collar and 
unbuttons his shirt, while the unhappy man 
smooths down his new black coat with 
twitching fingers, and watches the Sheriffs 
fat hands, and wonders whether he can get 
his gold ring off his little finger or not. 
Now his hands are tied behind him, and the pro- 
cession moves. 
/There is the doctor, the soldier of life, turned 
deserter, and serving in the army of death./ 
There is the priest, holding out hopes, in an under- 
tone, of another world, where the inhabitants 
are less inhuman than in this. 
^'There are the correspondents of the press, eager for 
any news that will sell.. 
The majesty of the law leads and brings up the 

rear the Sheriff and his deputies, the 

attorneys and the police. 
All that is respected in the community is represented 

here. 

I8-^ 



The State 

They have congregated Hke vultures scenting carrion 

from afar. 
The doomed man has braced himself up for a 

supreme effort, but his knees are unsteady, 

his underlip quivers, and his face is livid. 
In these last weeks he has died a thousand deaths, 

and his mind has suffered every kind of 

torment. 
How often has he gone through this scene before, 

and yet how different it is — so much more 

trivial and usual, and yet so much more 

dreadful. 
The ordinary words, " Good-morning," and " Thank 

you," sound like a foreign language, and 

still the day strangely resembles other 

days. 
As we turn a corner in the jail yard, and the 

frightful hanging-machine appears, he averts 

his eyes, and stumbles and nearly falls. 
At last he is in place, the black cap is pulled over 

his face and the noose adjusted. 
The Sheriff drops his handkerchief, the floor gives 

way with a creak — there is a sickening jerk, 

and the rope stretches taut ; 
Then after some minutes of convulsive struggle, that 

seem like years, all is quiet. 
The doctor comes forward and feels the dying man's 

pulse. 

184 



The State 

He nods his head, and the little crowd disperses, 
while four men lower the body into a box. 

/There was not one man in that company but felt 
that something awful was happening which 
ought not to happen ; — 

Not one who did not know that the punishment was 
infinitely more devilish than the crime ; — ^' 

Not one who at the bottom of his heart believed in 
his right or in anyone else's right to dispose 
of the life of his fellow-man, and trifle thus 
with the mystery of death. 

Yet with inexorable precision they went on to the 
end. 

Even the felon himself accepted the inevitable, and 
never in all his talks with his confessor did 
he think of asking how forgiveness and love 
of neighbours and enemies was consistent 
with all this. 

What was it that urged them relentlessly on ? 

When the Sheriff^'s little boy climbs on his knee in 
the evening, and hides his face against the 
breast of his coat, and says, " Father, why did 
you do it? " what will he answer? 

Was it fate and destiny, or divine justice ? 

Or was it not rather a poor, human make-shift 
for these — a necessity, a justice of the 
imagination ? 

185 



The State 

" Don't cry, my child ; you cannot understand now, 
but I am a servant of the State, and must do 

/ as the State directs." 

/The State ? 

Ah, thus it is that men conjure up spectres out of 
nothingness, and name them, and cast their 
sins upon them, and fall down and worship 
them. ^; 

III 
I feel the force stirring within me which in time 

will re-form the world. 
It does not push or obtrude, but I am conscious of 

it drawing gently and irresistibly at my vitals. 
And I see that as I am attracted, so I begin 

unaccountably to attract others. 
I draw them and they in turn draw me, and we 

recognise a tendency to group ourselves 

anew. 
Get in touch with the great central magnet, and you 

will yourself become a magnet ; 
And as more and more of us find our bearings and 

exert our powers, gradually the new world 

will take shape. 
We become indeed legislators of the divine lav/, 

receiving it from God Himself in the Mount, 

and human laws shrivel and dry up before 

us. 

i86 



The State 

'' And I asked the force within my soul, " Who art 

thou?" 
And it answered and said, " I am Love, the Lord 

of Heaven, and I would be called Love, the 

Lord of Earth. 
I am the mightiest of all the heavenly hosts, and I 

am come to create the State that is to be." 



1 87 



Postscript la^ 



// is not I that have written ; 

It is not I that have sung. 
I'm the chord that Another has smitten^ - 

The chime that Another has rung. 

Do not blame me, for how can a. man turn. 

And leave iitirecorded behind 
The truths which the great Magic Lantern 

Flashed bright on the blank of his mind. 

I give but the things I am given ; 

I show but the things that I see ; 
I draw, but my pencil is driven 

By a Force that is master of me. 



i88 



PRINTED BY 

MORRISON AND GIBB, LIMITED, 

EDINBURGH. 



